the boy: innocently i was
by starlee
Summary: sokai;-- how can you judge if you don't understand? :HIATUS:
1. Chapter One: A Garden

**Full Summary:  
**_**His little light and little fire, to mess with her is to burn.  
**__From the moment that Kairi see's the boy, she feels an instant connection to him. And when she talks to him properly; her world comes alive. However, to everyone else, he quickly becomes an object of hatred and jealousy. Kairi naively tries to understand just why people despise and turn the boy down, as well as the meaning behind her motherly protection over him. But Fate is a cruel thing, for by some sick and twisted turn of it, Kairi is torn beyond repair when he suddenly has to leave.  
__Only it is when he goes that she realises that she must do what was right in her heart._

Inspired by the books 'Twilight' and 'Lucas', my good friend Kathryn and her new boyfriend Josh as well as, of course, our much beloved game 'Kingdom Hearts'.  
Song that will be used throughout the story: Imaginary by Evanescence.

**Disclaimer:** … _No_, for the love of all that was holy! I am not going to bother telling you that I do not own 'Twilight', 'Lucas', Evanescence, 'Kingdom Hearts', Kathryn or Josh!  
…I just did? Whoops…  
Aaaaanyhooch.

::::::: = the paragraphs in between these colons are her future thoughts on the situation. (Sorry, if that doesn't make sense, it will if you find one.)  
_Italics_ = emphasis and thoughts.  
And the random bold line at the beginnings and ends? Honestly, don't ask. I haven't got a clue.

**E**njo**y**.

* * *

**It's amazing, really, how something so wild and unexpected could happen just like that. Like when a bird would suddenly take flight, like when a frog would abruptly hop off** **its** lily after whipping out a long thin tongue to catch a passing fly, like when a car would zoom past your window and catch you unaware, like when a ball would fly through the air and hit you hard on the head.

Yes, as wild and un-expecting as all these things are, they're completely natural events that happen in life these days. It's not meant to affect you, not meant to hurt or cause you pain, to surprise you. They just happen, instincts, accidents, catching you off guard enough for you to think them sudden. If you were to watch closely, though, I know you'd get at least a seconds warning. The bend of legs before the bird spreads its wings, the considering eyes and the opening of the frogs mouth, seeing the headlights beforehand and noticing the ball coming towards you, if you see these things, it avoids the majority of the surprise.

But I didn't see it coming.

When I met that mysterious boy, I didn't foresee what would happen to me, how our relationship would unfold and how it would conclude. I'm not a fortune teller, but I realise now that if I'd studied him sometimes, I'd have known what was going to happen, even if it was just a seconds notice. Like a nervous or confident aura and uncertainty or easiness in his startlingly beautiful eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, to tell me something, inform me with news, bad and good. Maybe I was blind, maybe I was just blind.

Maybe.

I understand, too, that if I had refused to the point of stubbornness when Namine asked me to come out, that if I'd dug in my heels and held my head high and said 'No.' Firm and cool as hell, that none of this would have happened unless I went out there myself sparsely a few days later, up there to where it 'was happening' these days. I wouldn't have done that though, would I? I could never have disagreed with her, not then, and even if I could, I wouldn't have gone out later. No, that just wasn't me, I was the anti-social one.

It's amazing how things change.

It's bewildering the people you need to thank for things sometimes, when it was hardly anything to do with them at all. Like in a race when they give you that extra push at the start as you begin to worry and hesitate, you run because of them, but they don't accompany you at all during the time you sprint along the route, the track, the trail… yet, if it wasn't for them, you'd have still been stood there like an idiot as the winner crosses the finishing line.

Yeah, it's amazing.

Perhaps it's confusing.

Or maybe it's just simple and I'm being my dumb blind self.

I wouldn't know.

But here's the wild and unexpected event that happened to me, the wonder that's had me up during nights on end, the amazing happening to which Namine started herself, the thing that hurt even though it wasn't meant to, here's where it all began…

**The day I met The Boy.**

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"_Sometimes taking risks can change your life; for maximum effect, take them head on."_

**A **_Garden of unspoken drama.  
_**S**_aturday_.  
**28****th **– **29****th ****O**_ctober_.

**The night sky was beautiful, an endless black canvas with holes in it, holes that were stars and shone so bright and in such massive clusters, stars that had the black paint** streaked with navy blue and deep purple and a hint of jade green, flashes of colour, flashes of life in the darkness. The moon was full, eerie in its own sinister beauty as it gazed down towards the Earth with dispassionate disparity, as if it felt itself as greater, better, higher…

Well, I'd give it the latter, because it _was _higher, but not in the sense I was speaking of.

I know I said 'day', but really, you could say it was in early morning time, at night, only does it truly count when you hardly even see them, speak to them?

I wouldn't have thought so, personally, but perhaps you have a different opinion.

I was ambling along the sidewalk, the low stone wall that separated the beach from the village on my right as I sauntered on my lazy way to nowhere in particular, aimlessly wandering, just thinking, really. Thinking about what my twin outgoing sister had in store for me in a few hours time, I can remember feeling nauseated by these nagging thoughts, so I'd hoped a walk would help me clear my head. It was helping, the fresh air, just a little bit, but working all the same.

As well as the phenomenon above aforementioned, the sea held my mesmerised attention as well. Wiser people have told me that the moon affects the ocean in ways that nothing else can, I can't remember how, exactly, and I can't remember who, but I know it does. It was a breathtaking sight which I saw through my violet eyes, studying it as waves rose from the colossus writhing mass in walls of water and crashed down with the added noise like a spray onto the moon-bleached sand.

A pleasant breeze swirled around me, cool against my skin as my nightdress billowed slightly so as to allow it entry. It ruffled my red-wine hair, taking it for a gentle roller coaster ride before depositing it, as if bored with it, and the strands tumbled down to fall over my shoulders and to frame my pale face. I ran my fingers through it, self-consciously, as I carried on my slow midnight walk. Marvelling again at my peaceful surroundings, listening again to the water's melody, I drew in a deep breathe as I wrapped my jacket around my small figure more tightly, leaving my arms crossed over my chest. I hadn't anticipated it being as cold as it was, but strangely, I didn't mind so much.

The beach at night never ceased to amaze me.

There you go, amaze again.

I say all this in detail, and yet, I really do remember it all. You always remember something memorable, and in my case, you recall every little thing. I didn't know if it was weird, I didn't know if it was right, but it was me. The way my mind would work, soaking up every little detail, yeah, it's just how my brain operates at certain times.

So that was how it was. I was breezing along the sidewalk in near silence, content and actually starting to feel rather happy now. But you know the feeling, when you're not concentrating on something, but you can still feel it there? Lay dormant now, a horrible feeling, ready to leap up and regain your attention when the time was worst? Yeah, it was there, snoozing away in the back of my mind, leaving me with a fluttery sickening sensation in my stomach that wasn't very pleasant, to speak the truth. It was harder to swallow than it really should have been, harder to keep my hands still from where they clutched at my bony elbows, but overall, I was feeing much better after slipping quietly out onto my balcony, climbing down the vines that bloomed up against my house's sandstone walls and ducking through my secret exit from the mansion's grounds. It was silly of my family to allow me, their more resentful daughter, the easiest room for escape, but then, they weren't the brightest of bunches.

Oh, didn't I tell you? My family is rather on the rich side.

My father is the one who really rolls in the cash, working as a high class business man who is quite the important person on the island, perhaps, the _most _important person…

Okay, my father was the president; there you go; now how do you see me?

Normally, I prefer to keep that kind of thing a secret, 'The President's Daughter'… well, you can see where I'm coming from. You imagine a right fake, plastered in layers of make-up, tangerine face, adorned in the best and most expensive clothes, sunglasses, dazzling smile, maybe. Her hair done up fussily with plenty of dyes and clips and sticking out all over the place from being straightened for hours on end…

Yeah, I don't like that much.

I'm not like that, not like that at all, in fact, I'm as different as that as it was possible to be. Would you believe me if I said that when you knew of my identity? I don't know, but I do care, and that's more annoying than you probably realise.

Maybe it was because he judged me from my personality that I took to him so much…

Maybe.

I'm still walking, to bring things back on track, still minding my own business and enjoying my night time saunter, the air was sweet and suave as it invaded my nostrils, I was under the spell of the ocean, and I didn't mind so much. It was a nice feeling, as opposed to my most recent one…

Perhaps I was just appreciating it too much.

It could have been natural to feel that way.

But I never thought I could have found something better.

It was low at first, floating, drifting lazily on the light sea breeze. Swirling, twisting, waving, and slicing through the calm silence with ease like a knife would slice water, in other words, effortlessly. The sound was embarking on its own roller coaster ride as it slowly, tenderly, reached and caressed my eardrums.

I'd never heard a tune so sweet.

It was barely a hum at first, but strangely, I could sense the beauty of the sound from it, sense that there was meaning lying deep within the soulful melody. It rose and fell flawlessly, travelling on the air currents like water, fluid in its smooth steady moving pace. A speed that was fast enough to get somewhere, but not too fast to miss anything, to pass un-noticed by any lucky wanderer nearby.

Oh yes, I saw it as lucky, alright.

It enthralled me, a tune that seemed like it both belonged and was remote to everything it flowed past, like an irresistible sense to pass up on, my body slipped into a trance as I followed it back to where I was sure the music was centred from. I wondered, fleeting and dazedly, what kind of instrument I knew of that count emit such a tune, surely, I had heard nothing like it, no violin or piano or harp can produce something so heart-warming. It was un-thought of, entirely impossible; I would assume my eyes were playing tricks on me if a found any such musical object being played now.

I didn't have to.

As I walked along, I was like a sleep-walker. Any passers by would have probably seen an auburn haired girl with vacant eyes who appears to float by, but so what? If a couple of kids, elders or adults thought I was a crazy psycho, or if they envied me for my carelessness and peaceful expression. If they thought I was someone who appeared strange, looked incredibly different… where was the harm in that?

_Where was the harm…?  
_There was none.  
_None at all…  
_It didn't matter.  
_It doesn't matter one bit…  
_**How very wrong I was.  
**Right then, I really was blind.

Have you ever had the feeling when your mind is just void of all thoughts, but only one thing gets through to you? Or perhaps nothing at all? You don't think, you don't feel, and you just…are. Because my entire mind was just taking in was the growing melody, as it was getting louder and louder with each and every step I took. That and nothing else. And I wasn't even concentrating on the shuffling of my feet, not even knowing as a soft smile touched my lips, and I revealed my amethyst eyes to the sleeping world to look over at a swaying palm tree suspiciously, feeling that weird prickly sensation on my flesh when you can sense another person's presence. This new vibe was so strong; the melody was even momentarily forgotten, but not completely, falling back to join the bad feeling as an afterthought in the back of my mind.

There was a shadowed figure stood there, leaning against the tree's narrow trunk. I couldn't see them properly, but by the way they held their body, by the way they were shaped and by the shortness of their hair I knew at once on their gender; it was a boy. One of medium height with his hair in messy spikes, the moonlight didn't reflect off his face, it was hidden in the shadows. His top seemed thick and long sleeved, I couldn't really tell, and the pants he wore went down to his mid-shin, no shoes adorned his slightly large feet.

I noted all this, but the boy was shrouded in darkness, completely black as a silhouette as he stood there with his weight against that palm tree. The leaves on it rustled, almost restlessly, the wind whispering through them as if they conversed as old friends, before dropping downwards to entwine itself within the boy's already untidy hair. I watching as the strands waved about, like they rejected the breeze's presence and were flailing around wildly to get rid of it, an action that completely rivalled against the relationship between the tree and the wind. These startling thoughts caused a small giggle to slip through my lips.

The boy instantly froze; somehow he had heard the sound that my throat had uttered, and I could see the tension as the tune was abruptly cut off, making me freeze in turn. Fear began to trickle down my spine like a light spell of rain.

It could mean anything.

It could mean nothing.

:::::::

Looking back, I think I shocked him a bit, after all, I suppose he was hardly expecting somebody to have gotten so close and to not have realised their existence. To immediately stand still was of pure instinct, like a deer in headlights, like a spider in your room, like a cat as it slinks into your back garden slyly and then catches your piercing gaze. You're startled, you didn't expect something to be there, and you've been caught off guard. But every time, we always expect danger to be hot on surprise's heels, fear is like ice as it slices through you, tearing a path in your body and lodging within your heart, like a bullet. Your body is expecting something harmful like that missile to follow. Only more often than not, it doesn't. I expect he was feeling scared too, or was it for the intruder's – my – sake? Perhaps, I'd known him to act wildly out of proportion when he thinks he senses a threat. Fear was instinct, defensive reaction was instinct; it was a fact of life. A sleek cat against a shaggy dog, an electric eel against a dangerous crocodile, and a wild horse against a growling wolf, almost everyone has a predator who stalks them. Be it man or bird, amphibian or invertebrate, mammal or fish, there's always something higher. Which really makes you think, who's the highest, here?

:::::::

For a moment, nothing moved at all. Even the wind was still, as if sensing a tension in the air and deciding to not intervene or swirl into dangers path, I had a mental picture of a cloud retreating from the scene. I held my breath, the nausea swelling back into full force as the calm was lost. Like 'Bam!' and it was there, and boy could I feel it alright, I almost doubled over.

I know he never meant to scare me, never meant to make me feel sick with fright, not by those means anyway, but it happened all the same.

All because of one stupid giggle…

I watched him, curiosity leaking into my system, what was he thinking? Was he preparing to do something? Should I run?

_Yes, run! _My head was screaming, over and over again, _god, get out of here, woman!_

And I was about to, bending my legs in preparation to take flight, take flight like a bird… maybe I could catch _him _unawares and get away before he even knew it. But my heart suddenly interrupted my mind's dramatically over-exaggerated wailing.

_Stay,_ it said. But that was all it took, all that it needed to say to me to make me listen. I always followed my heart, cliché, I know, but it was what I did. So I began to relax slightly, permitting calm to seep back into my system to still my flying thoughts of escape. Until, that is, his head suddenly seemed to twitch. The move startled me, but this time, into movement. I'd suddenly realised I was frightened right then, frightened beyond belief. But in my heart, the fear was not there, it was absent. Like the emotion had been placed there, but was not supposed to be. The vibe was pumping through my body, driving me to sprint through the lanes of the village, boiling madly within my veins. My heart, though, was calm, regardless of how it pumped my raging blood; I knew the feeling wasn't entirely there.

I ran all the way home, my mind was like my body; working madly to lessen to abrupt flare of terror I felt just then. But always filled with thoughts of that boy, his music, and his strange behaviour when he knew of my presence, the stillness and then the almost casual jerk of the head, the exact same time that fear had suddenly hit me.

What did it mean?

It could be important.

But I disregarded it.

**I closed my balcony doors behind me.**

::**x**.**x**::

Just then, our **picture** was no more than a **flash** of _**grey**_ led on _**snow-white**_ paper.  
It could have been **l**abelled as mere r u b b i s h.  
But it's a **start**.

::**x**.**x**::

**Do you ever get the feeling when you just can't be bothered? Someone tells you to do** **something, they can try threatening you, and they can try forcing you, _try _being the** operative word. Only your mind just goes blank within seconds and by the time they've finished speaking you're staring off into la-la land, not paying attention in the slightly. What they want you to do is either pointless, boring or just plain stupid. You can't be motivated to take action; your eyes are glazed over with an unseeing gaze. However, with me it was a rather different case.

There I was, happily snoozing away on my queen-sized bed in my too-large room. Ignoring everything but the soft comfortableness of my silky sleeping quarters, I know that if you'd have seen me, you would have thought I looked a bit funny. No, it wouldn't have been the messiness of my auburn locks, the way the quilt tended to twist tightly around my pale body, the angry red marks where I'd been pressed to something too hard in my oblivious slumber.

Not that, but the simply sight of me amidst all that space. I'd have looked lost; and I wouldn't have been surprised if you couldn't have found me.

Hilarious.

Oh yes, my parents try to spoil me, they try to give me things I just don't need, the kind of things that someone that wasn't so fortunate would be far better off having. They give me things which are massive when a much smaller version would have suited just as well.

I hated that.

It was kind of beside the point; it was entirely beside the point, in fact. But there you go. Yeah, me, dozing quite peacefully and very much minding my own business, thank you very much. I remember feeling the warmth of the sun's gentle morning heat on my left side and back, it would have been pleasant, but my room itself was stuffy as it was. All in all, it wasn't that great, I'm sure I was perspiring. I won't be cliché and tell you that the birds were singing and the heavens were calling for my eye's attention to examine its beauty, no, I won't say that.

Simply because I don't remember it.

My sweet sanctuary was far too suave for me to get up and do anything about the torridity, I couldn't be bothered, there you are, I just couldn't be irked the teensiest bit. Right about then, I was making plans to just stay there all morning, I was that content.

My annoying brat of a sister had _very _different ideas.

**Knock, knock, knock!**

...Well, snap… I suppose anyone can wish.

**Knock, knock, knock!!**

_Yeah, and you just keep on wishing…_

"Kairi!" It was her, of course, shouting my name in the hopes that I would respond.

_And I'll let her wish, too._

"I swear to God, Kairi, if I don't hear anything in ten _seconds _I'll break down this bloody door and come right in there to wake you! You'll regret not just getting up in the first place!"

"Alright, alright, I'm up…" I mumbled into my smooth silken pillow, I didn't move, however, stubbornly unwilling to leave my dream world of sunshine with grass and daisies and the musical boy I knew nothing about, even his features were…

**-- .I **_**lin**_**ger **_**in**_** the**_** door**_**way. --**

_Wait, what? A boy? Since when have I dreamt of males that have nothing whatsoever to do with my family…?_

Such thoughts made me suddenly remember the night before, my midnight walk, the music, and the distant shadowy figure – that boy. He was the one in my dreams, I realised, he was the one I couldn't stop thinking about as I'd lay in my bed and waited patiently for sleep to come and wrap me in its gentle arms. It was surprising, truthfully, the countless boys that had shown an interest in me, had tried to 'woo' me as they say, and I never thought twice about them. Idiots, that's what they were. This one though… there was something about him, something that made me look back on the memory, made me look again.

Do you ever get the feeling that when you see a certain someone, however briefly or sparsely or even if you couldn't even see their face enough to really _see _them, a foreign vibe shoots through your body? The feeling when something strikes a cord within your heart, confusing your emotions, making you think and feel things you never have before…? Back then on the sidewalk, with the sound of that tune, the cool lazy breeze against my skin, the moon-bleached night surrounding me, the only thing my mind could truly _see _was _him_. The feeling had come later, though, later when I was back in the safety of my warm quilt. What does it mean? I'd wondered, why does it bewilder my emotions and insist on having my mind on him, and only him? I didn't know, I _couldn't _know, it was all so very new to my undeveloped mind. It felt like instinct to me, an abrupt feeling that is there to tell you something that you cannot truly decipher and see the meaning and importance of, but is telling you to trust it, go along with it; so you do. Like when a deer would sense an oncoming predator and become alert then bound away, like when a house dog would sense an intruder and bark wildly so as to warn its owner, like when a shark would detect movement and life from the surface or under and consume it immediately, all natural, all instinct, acting without conscious thought as if you're meant to do it. Yes, this feeling was like instinct to me, I was _meant _to feel it, have it there in my heart.

Lay on my back last night with my violet orbs trained on my balcony double doors which, consequently, showed me the dazzling star diamonded sky, but with my thoughts miles away…

I'd wanted to meet this stranger again, and I'd wanted to _see_ him this time. I still did.

Holy flippinoly.

"KAIRI, GET YOUR LAZY ARSE MOVING RIGHT _NOW_!"

Charming.

I simply blinked, having been brought back to reality as her voice proceeded to deafen me, you would have counted on a more dramatic reaction, but not me. Why? Because I was used to it, obviously, this was almost daily routine for us. Something today felt different, however, strange… like something in the air feeling too tight and making it harder than usual to breathe. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I didn't like it all too much.

"I'm _com_ing!" I hollered back, putting emphasis on each syllable as I lifted my face away from the pillow, effectively allowing my voice to amplify to maximum volume, "Keep your fake-up on! _Sheesh_…"

"_Ha ha…_" Namine said loudly with heavy sarcasm as she banged her fist against my door again, I couldn't work out exactly why, perhaps because she liked doing it now, "Hurry up about it! We haven't got all the freakin' time in the world, you know…"

I huffed lightly, pushing my soft cover away from my tired limbs by way or preventing myself from drifting off again. Slowly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position and swung my legs over the side, both in individual motions of movement. I was purposely going at a snail's pace, and it was going to annoy my twin like heck, but hey, what did I care? I was mad at her for waking me up now, one glance at my bedside table with my silver alarm clock stood atop it had told me something that I wasn't going to forgive for a long _long _time.

Namine had woken me up at 7:36am, on a _Saturday_. Yeah, I was _pretty_ furious, because I _kind of_ liked my lie-ins. Chyeah, Understatement of the entire century.

I sauntered across my thickly carpeted bedroom floor.

"Kairi, get the damn _door_, already."

_All in good time, my dear sibling_. I eventually raised my arm and wrapped the thin fingers of my left hand around the knob, at the same time, my right hand worked to unlock it with all the speed of an aging turtle.

"_Kairi…_" Her voice was indicating that she was starting to lose her temper, again, which was rather unsurprising considering her actual personality and the present situation. I smiled. Finally pulling open the blanco pigmented door, I peered around it to see her standing there with an angry fire in her lavender-blue eyes, fists shaking at her sides. She saw my amused grin, and her fury almost exploded. I swear that girl needed anger management sometimes, pronto. She wore a short pale blue strapped top that showed her flat stomach off, with a short denim skirt that went down to her mid-thigh. On her face was her make-up (Ahem, _fake_-up) that I never saw her without, and her feet were adorned in high-heeled shoes, her jewellery went way overboard and a flour white handbag swung from her shoulder. To sum it up in a few words: she looked like a slag. But, of course, she was blonde, wasn't she?

A dumb blonde.

Dread suddenly filled me as I remembered what was supposed to be happening today, the kind of emotion that you get when you think of what lays ahead of you, making you feel sickly inside. Have you ever experienced that kind of fear? The fear of meeting strangers and spending the day with people you'd rather not… that was the vibe streaking through my insides right then, leaving a nauseating tail of fire in its wake. Like a sudden heavy wave on the oblivious surfer, like an unexpected blast of icy wind on your unsuspecting skin, like the exhilaration of a long fall on the breathless sky-diver… one moment it wasn't there, the next it was. It might have showed in either my eyes or my body language, I wouldn't have been any the wiser, but my twin sister had an abrupt gleam in her eye, one with bad intentions.

"Alright…" She hissed quietly, keeping up with her angry demeanour as she pushed past me and proceeded to stomp over to my huge wardrobe, "Let's see how presentable I can make a bleeding unsociably woman…"

That horrid feeling flared, urging me to run after her and stop her, but how could I? I couldn't, she was always the one that won, and so what would be the point?

After every fight, every argument and disagreement, she always came out as the victor, reigned supreme. Was it her doing, or mine? Was she strong, or was I just weak? Feeble and frail and fragile… unable to decide for myself, to take care of myself, to make decisions that would affect me. It was them, all the time it was them who did it all as I blundered along in their self-centred wake with the occasional pull and tug, like luggage, without thoughts and without feelings, just simply there as something else the needed to take with them for the ride. Was that me?

Yes, it was me, as silent as leather because I hated to talk to them, always allowing them to decide. But I could change that; I could have the power to change that if I wanted, right? Stand up to them, speak up, fight back with my full strength and be declared the winner for once. Once would do, if I could just persuade her to go without me…

No, I can't. So I suppose I really am just weak…

But then, she wasn't strong either.

I trailed after her, dragging my feet along the way, they left dark lines on the royal purple carpet as the segments were pulled the opposite way to which they were accustomed. I changed the way it looked by my simple action, it could be permanent, or someone could come along and set it right. Could Namine have the power to change me and make it… permanent? Would today strike something within me, make me one of _them_?

If that were to happen, was there anyone out there who would come along to set me right?

I stopped at her side, and watched her through glazed eyes as she began to babble on about what would look good on me and what wouldn't, the usual. I zoned out within mere moments.

**I just couldn't be bothered again.**

::**x**.**x**::

I almost **protested**.  
Nearly dug in _**those heels**_ and held _**that head**_ nice and high.  
But I d i d n ' t.  
It was probably one of the **o**nly times that I thanked my **weakness**.

::**x**.**x**::

"**There!" Namine exclaimed in delight, stepping away from me and spreading her arms out wide as if to say 'take a look'.**

I did just that, although hesitantly. Ever had the feeling that you don't really know whether you want to do something or not? Yeah, that was my emotion then. I wanted to see how I looked, but I was scared and worried too. I remember I hadn't paid the slightest bit of attention to what she'd been shoving into my hands, before she sent me off into my en-suite bathroom to get changed into the clothes. My wardrobe was a laugh as she'd searched through it, a massive expanse of near empty and wasted space to which a few sad garments hung limply, I imagined their non-existent eyes were watching her soulfully as she viciously scored through them for anything she considered 'suitable'. I didn't even want to _imagine _that, but my mind suddenly dredged up horrendously revealing things as if just to spite me. Just then, she had been working on my make-up, something to which I'd protested against but Namine, as always, had won. So now I had a face full of fake-up too. Absolutely fantastic, and I'd vowed that I wouldn't be seen _dead _in the stuff. As I crossed the room towards my full-length mirror my footfalls were steady but frighteningly heavy, the walk was one of uncertainty, not too fast but not too slow either, kind of like you automatically walk at just the right pace when your nerves are acting up.

When I reached the reflective glass, my jaw dropped.

Imagine the surprise when you expected your outgoing sister to tart you up, and this is what you get instead; a white under-dress held up by straps that goes down to your mid-thigh with a pink jumpsuit over it that ends in a skirt at the bottom. Strangely enough, the blanco dress had a black hood attached to the straps, and there was a purple-pink belt around my waist with two pouches on the opposing sides. The shoes that covered my small feet were purple converses, the laces criss-crossed there way up to about my mid-shin. A simple necklace was draped over my neck, with a stone hanging from it and resting lightly on my chest. If there was any fake-up on my pale complexion, it was hardly noticeable.

All that fear, all that dread, all for nothing. So yeah, I was stunned alright, stunned into stillness and silence. Surprise, that's the vibe I felt, and not the type where we react with fast movement, but quite the opposite. I just couldn't move a muscle, not an inch, heck; even a hair-breadth would have been too much to ask for right at that moment. Yeah, imagine the surprise of that, or perhaps you don't have to if you've already experienced it for yourself? The kind of emotion when you walk into your house and everyone you know just suddenly jumps out and exclaim in unison 'Happy Birthday!', like when you freeze when you're sauntering along somewhere and someone jumps up right in front of you, maybe even when you're expecting to see a desolate wasteland, but instead, your viewing orbs are met with a scene of breathtaking natural beauty. That was it, that's the kind of surprise that shocked me that morning as I stood before my mirror after a makeover from my annoying sister in my warm bedroom, a makeover that, holy crow, didn't actually turn out to be a complete disaster.

Phew, and it wasn't all that bad, in fact, it was _good. _I looked at Namine with my mouth still hanging open, when a sudden thought occurred to me, and I quickly shut it as I prepared to ask; "Where did the dress come from?"

Her lavender-blue eyes were blank momentarily, before; "It's mine, so don't ruin it."

"I won't…" I replied quietly as I looked down to examine it without the glass's help. Namine grinned again, showing off her pearly whites as her eyes gazed miles away.

"Too right you bloody won't, but I had to make my sister look at least _half _decent to be seen with…"

I didn't care, It didn't matter to me that the dress was hers, that she only gave it to me because she didn't want to be considered a relative of the true me. No, it didn't bother me in the slightest, not the teensiest of little bits, I was just happy to wear this garment, even if just for the day…

Even if it didn't feel right, if it didn't feel like _me_, I still liked it. Perhaps a shred too much. I shook my head fiercely, trying to shake these disturbing thoughts out of my head. No, I didn't like it, I didn't want it, and I would never allow myself to be changed that way, _never._ I was tempted to peel it all back off right there and then, strip away the beauty that the dress brought out in me, but I knew I couldn't. I still had to go out in it, after all. Namine would surely kill me if I did take it off. I gulped softly. Concentrating on the bad aspects of the clothes, I'd turned my mind against it; it truly did feel all wrong, un-real on my body, a body that was used to clothes that hung loosely from my frame, or at least, looser than this. Namine must have snapped back to reality from whatever daydream she'd been having, and seen the hesitation in my violet orbs, because her voice suddenly cut through the air like a whip, ferocious and deadly; "You _are_ coming, Kairi, whether you bloody like it or not, and you _are _going to be wearing that, the boys will like it."

_Wait, what? Whoa! Hold up and back up a little there?_ **Boys**? No chee, not a chance, I don't _think _so! Who did she think she was? Holy crow! _Matchmaker_?

No.

Before, I had no interest in the male species at all, and now, if I ever refused strongly about the idea of having any kind of boyfriend yesterday, I surely did now. I don't understand what, and I don't get why, but a fire-like feeling that seemed to erupt for my very core was scorching as it rejected the entire thing. It was a contagious thing, like the white hot flame that spread rapidly across the peaceful forest; it was fast to touch every single part of me. To the very tips of my fingers and the end of my toes, it throbbed beneath my ivory skin.

As I watched her, Namine was back tracking rapidly away from my outraged glare, confusion etched across her caked up features. She tripped over a pile of clothing left on the floor, and staggered to regain her footing as a string of colourful words rolled off her tongue. Her eyes were harsh as they met mine again, but this time I didn't back down, I allowed my own violet orbs to bore right into her lavender-blue irises. Namine became shocked and furious at the same time.

"For Christ's sake, Kairi, live a little and have a bit of _fun _now and again!"

"I _do _have fun, for your information!" I snapped in return, she blinked, startled, "Reading, writing, painting… that's all fun too!"

"You're such a bloody unsociable emo…" Namine muttered, my fury flared again and I re-opened my mouth to retort when she added, "You _have _to live a social life, woman! _Jesus_, and if it has to be me that introduces you to it, then so frickin' be it!"

She grabbed my arm, yanking me towards the door. I tried to resist at first, but her grip was firm, and soon I gave up. Like the coward, the weakling I was, I gave up. There was no going back now, and as she marched me along the lengthy hallways of our mansion and down the flights of un-necessary long staircases, my anger ebbed away to be replaced with that familiar fear again. The sickly nauseating one. I grimaced.

Namine led me into the dining room, where our parents sat at a table that could seat about a dozen more people than just us. Only this was my family; my father, my mother, Namine and I, like four peas rolling pathetically about in a can, us in our mansion. So much useless space, echoing walls and rooms the sizes of regular houses, I was sourly tempted all the time to just _ask _my parents to enlighten me with why such a small family needed such an expanse amount of room, such a big house. Namine loved it, though, of course she would, and our parents favoured her outgoing attitude as opposed to my delight in solitude and confinement, they gladly go along with her dearest wishes. She loved its marble halls, its thick carpets, its long hallways and huge rooms. She adored the stone pillars and the wide stairs, the waiting servants and the size of her enormous bed. As far as twins went, we were a pair of the most different ones you would most likely come across in a life time, or a thousand. Yes, the man and his wife were both there, him, with his newspaper and cup of strong tea in his business suit already, her, adorned in her own suit for her job as his secretary, sipping at black coffee and reading a magazine through spectacles and violet eyes; my eyes. Father had my red-wine hair, with Namine's lavender-blue irises, Mother's hair was a dirtier shade of blonde than Namine's, but it was from her that my sister had inherited it from. They were both silent before and as we entered the room, when we did, both looked up, their orbs were drawn to me instantly. Mother's cherry red lips parted slightly as she took in my appearance. Father simply stared. I grew more self-conscious as I already was under their stern gazes.

"Good heavens, Kairi, have you finally taken a leaf out of Namine's book?" Mother exclaimed as her eyes roamed over me. I never really understood that statement, I mean, come on, what kind of book has a leaf in it, honestly? But do you ever get the feeling when you feel incredibly un-comfortable, and fear that there will be something terribly wrong that your mother will find about your looks? You hate it how your parents will look at you, because if they disapprove, it's much worse than if your friend was to mention it. You long to live up to your elder's expectations, its only natural, you want to impress your parents and make them proud of you. So you grow horribly conscious of yourself as they stare, suddenly feeling the cool breeze against your legs if you never wore a skirt before, feeling the edge of your cropped top skim over your stomach if you never truly revealed your belly to the world in the past. It's a sickening feeling, and if you were to take that and plus it to the general sensation of butterflies I had from just going out then, voila, you get one heck of an overwhelming nauseating feeling. Mother's words, as well as confusing me as aforementioned, also maddened me. It was as if they really did prefer Namine to me, like they didn't like _me _but wanted me to be like my twin, they stung, but not like the sting of a bee, but something mental that ran far deeper than that. I was hurt. Plus, 'finally' implies that they've been waiting for this to happen, for me to change. Mother was beaming at me from the possibility, I felt disgusted by her, for no reason other than how she seemed to _want _two tarts for her daughters.

Well, fine, let her be that way.

But before I could even start any kind of protest, Namine cut across me, assuring our mother that I was _going _to take a leaf out of her book, that she was taking me out. Mother laughed and clapped, embracing her with enthusiasm and telling her that she happy because of it. Father smiled, but besides that, you would have thought he didn't even hear my sister. In that brief moment, I realised that I probably preferred him to my mother for now. Namine and I sat, a servant came over and we ordered our breakfast, I was reluctant because of the fluttery feeling I was experiencing, but knew I must, breakfast was essential for a good start to the day. I asked for some fruit and a glass of milk, never ordered, I hated to order people around like my family did. Namine shot me an irritated glance as I pronounced what made my request as polite as possible louder than was entirely necessary, but I ignored her, the servant appeared flattered as he walked away, but I ignored that too. Adopting my regular withdrawn aura no matter had hard my mother tried to press for details, staring at my lap, my thoughts suddenly turned again to The Boy – Oh, yes, I could think of no other way of thinking about him when I didn't know his name, and it was like that for a while. I wondered about a lot of things, like what he truly looked like, I had his shape and size and the rough outline of the kind of things he wore, but besides that, I had nothing at all. I made up some things, imagining him as a normal person, a selfless and gentle sort of guy, the kind of person that I would want to be with. He was regular, went to school like anyone else, mucking about with his friends there and even at the sandy beach maybe. Perhaps he liked the beach, considering he was there at midnight playing a mysterious instrument from which flowed the most dazzling tune I had ever heard. The mere memory was too sweet for words, gently caressing the air currents as it washed by in fluidly smooth bursts of song, and that's about as far as I can put it into a sentence. No joke.

So I was quiet as I ate and drank alternately, conscious of Mother's violet eyes on me, but never taking any action about it. I was content to just sit there and think about _him_.

A soon as we finished, I said 'Goodbye' and left the house without another word. I didn't even know what I wanted to do anymore, to be angry or upset, to want to go or not, because the thought of The Boy with his friends had made me realise that he could be there were Namine was planning to take me. Popular, good-looking, possibly self-centred just like the rest of them. My make believe world for him smashed into a million diamond-like pieces, like a mirror as it reflects a spectrum of colour from the light shined onto it…_No_, my heart said to me, _he won't be like that, trust me on this one._ So, strangely, I accepted those words and my fantasy of him was re-aroused with confidence. I always trusted my heart. Those words even had a nice connotation to the situation, like it was reassuring me that I would meet The Boy, and meet him soon.

I was still rather unsure though, they you are, I couldn't make my mind up, _again_.

As I walked towards the front door, I made a detour into a bathroom and wiped the fake-up away, if The Boy was going to see me, he was going to see the true _me_.

Perhaps I was delusional to believe he would be there at all.

**Maybe I was right for once.**

::**x**.**x**::

That day I **believed** in **y**ou.  
I wanted to show you the _**true**_ me, not a façade, but _**me**_.  
Only you **d**idn't show me the **real you**.

::**x**.**x**::

**Have you ever felt hesitant to stride into somewhere open, especially somewhere which was alien to your eyes and the people there were unfamiliar to your memory? I have,** and it waswhen Namine took me to 'The Gardens'. The feeling as if your out of place, like an antelope placed in the midst of a pride of lions, like a fly caught in a widows web, like a cat rammed into a room filled with hungry dogs… I was terrified. Twyport itself was full of life, crowds of browsers and shoppers all over the place. That in itself was un-easing. Groups of boys barging past and nearly sending me sprawling, had Namine not caught my arm at the last second and set me to my feet with an impatient frown my way. Well…, I thought bitterly, excuse me, I'll make sure to use the concealed eyes in the back of my head next time. Elderly ladies hobbled by with shopping bags swinging from their arms, their eyes wide with fright with the masses of humans and the terrifying prospect of being knocked over and trampled on, one old woman in particular saw what happened to me and sprinted away as fast her little legs would carry her, screaming. As Namine and a few others laughed, I could only feel sympathy for the lady, I wasn't entirely surprised by her reaction even if it did unsettled me a little, the boys around this place didn't look very friendly or polite. Younger women sauntered around, looking at the window displays and sometimes contemplating before stepping inside. Some of them pushed buggies with babies, toddlers and small children in them either howling, sleeping, staring or nagging their mothers for various items and treats. Most women became irritated by the latter, a few were laughing at their son's or daughter's antics. Families were seated at benches eating food from the bakeries or their own sandwiches, talking quietly among themselves. Gangs of teenagers hung about here and there, an unknown number of them drifted around seemingly aimless or with a specific destination in mind, chattering excitedly between themselves as they went.

:::::::

The detail of the shopping centre is not entirely clear, but I do my best to describe it as I remembered it. The things I've mentioned, though, are definitely what happened. I'll never forget my first day at that place without an adult there to guide me.

:::::::

I envied anyone who looked happy.

Namine dragged me right through this shopping area, however, stopping twice or thrice to 'nip into there for a second', she took much longer than that each time, and I'll just leave it at that. Some parents eyed her reproachfully, as if they were cautious of her and thought that she would rub off on their offspring, was a bad influence, personally, I think they had every right to act in that way. Rough looking boys would see her and a sudden spark would appear in their eyes as they moved forward, scared by their dominating auras, I would instantly pull Namine away from whatever she was inspecting or wherever we were walking. Finally, though, we were able to get out of there, and Namine led us down the side of a shop on a quieter street were only a handful of stragglers mooched about the less interesting stores. The short alleyway at the side of the building was surprisingly well kept, or at least, wasn't covered in litter and the walls were clean and graffiti-less. We emerged on the other side, and that's when the aforementioned feeling hit me the most.

'The Gardens' was a rather plain meeting spot, stone paths criss-crossing around patches of what I supposed was supposed to be lush jade green grass; but had turned more yellow-y orange due to the season. There were two raised areas of grass with low umber and dull grey marble walls encircling them, a nero pigmented surface of marble ran along the sides of the raised areas, serving as seats or whatever else the people used them as. A tree stood on each raised area, both were still holding onto their last leaves and were casting shadows over the ground below, turning the bright colours into more solemn shades. Behind us was, of course, the line of shops from the street we just came from, to the left of The Gardens was a broken dirt path to which was next to an unknown building in turn. Bushes lines the grass before it could touch this lane, and the end of the path that came our way went down the side of one of the shops, whilst the other end was connected to the road that was on the far side of the spot. The road ran right round the right side as well and went on to… somewhere, anyway. On the other side of the tarmac roads were more buildings, but with various purposes; a pub, a barbers, a mini-supermarket, etc. Leaves were scattered everywhere, brown and orange and yellow and the occasional green, dancing and swirling in the wind. Formulating patterns of their own, I like patterns.

I say all this with more confidence than you would ever know, I spent a lot of time at this place in the future.

The raised quilt of yellow-orange-greenery nearest to us remained completely void of human life; meanwhile, the other one was a different story. A group of people were gathered there, talking together and just generally fooling around. A few of the guys had skateboards, and where either whizzing along the paths, exchanging their knowledge on tricks and showing them to each other, or allowing others to ride on them; mainly girls. One girl in particular was having trouble getting the board running, even when the boy who owned it held her helpfully on the sides she fell off, but the two only giggled together. Some were looking surly and moody as they stood with their arms folded, frowning at the others. Couples sat with each other, some showed publicly displayed affection but, strangely, it didn't really bother me. Their friends looked as if they were making fun of them, however, but the whole scenes were all just playful. They sight of their friendliness to one another helped to ease my jittering stomach slightly, but I wasn't completely assured that they wouldn't reject me; I was still resentful and unwilling to approach them.

Namine made it impossible for me to not do that, though.

She pulled on my arm, literally dragging me towards them, I couldn't resist against her, and so I didn't even bother to try. I let my sister take me to them, take me to these strangers. At first, it wasn't too bad, and I was hoping dearly that she was familiar with the friendlier looking ones. The group of bad-tempered and shady looking figures were huddled together somewhere in the middle, a huge gathering of teenagers at the very back didn't give anything but each other their undivided attention. A gang were joking together closer to us on a patch of grass, and as we passed them, some of them shot us furtive glances, cautious and wary as Namine dragged me by. I met some of their disgusted eyes, trying to see why they appeared to hate us so much even when _I _at least hadn't done anything to hurt them. Although, Namine may have, and this thought caused me to become resentful towards my twin. As my violet gaze met theirs, though, they always looked away. Do you ever get the feeling that you're not welcome somewhere? When people look at you like you're mediocre or far too superior and they don't like you at all for it? That was how I felt right then. They didn't want me there whatsoever, like the way a litter of pigs would stare down the runt, or the way citizens might look at the president that they hated. Like the angry stare of students as they pass the teachers they detest, these people disliked me as they watched me approach a different assembly of adolescents. An overwhelming sense of petrified terror enveloped my small body as the realisation crashed down.

Namine knew _them_.

The gruff looking ones, the brusque appearing ones, the ones who eyed me with bitterness as we drew closer. There were two girls and four boys. One ivory skinned girl had short blonde hair with a fringe that divided into two strips that looked more like antennae's than anything else, her face seemed as if it suited cruelty as she leered at me and my sister, with cold blue eyes and black garments to complete the bad-girl look, I really didn't like the look of her. The other porcelain girl had short silver hair that draped across one eye but left the other red hued orb revealed, her sleeveless navy jacket was zipped up so that her collar stuck up and her beige three-quarters clung to her slender legs at the rim, her shoes were cerulean sandals. A pale guy with long spiky orange hair had an amused gleam in his cat green eyes, with two tattoos of teardrops just below his eyes and also adorned in black clothes; he gave the impression of finding unkind happenings truly hilarious. An incredibly buff dark toned male with short brunet hair and hard umber eyes stared at me, his sleeveless orange top clung to his muscular chest and his three-quarters were an armada blue, his shoes were black. A pale impassive looking slightly spiky blonde stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his attire was dark blue as well and he alone was ignoring our approach, I think I appreciated him for that. The last member of the cluster of teens had skin with a beige shade and long silver haired boy with aqua-marine orbs that seemed to hold no light within them. His top was a saffron tone and his ripped jeans were almost black, I couldn't see the shoes he wore. It was this guy that Namine made a beeline for.

As I took in the appearances of these individuals, I grew more and more resentful to the idea of actually meeting them. Straining against Namine seemed almost hopeless, but I suddenly found myself tugging with my full strength. My sister turned to face me, startled by my abrupt flare of resistance, she released my arm. I didn't expect this and I nearly went careening backwards. Luckily for me, I was able to grab hold of something to stop myself, unluckily for me, that _something_ turned out to be the orange haired male who was now grinning down at me as he held me by the waist. I squeaked as I tried to tear myself away from his grasp, but he didn't let up.

"So, what's your name?" He purred into my ear. I shivered as his breathe blew against my nape and began to struggle vehemently out of his arms in a vain attempt to free myself. I refused to answer him, and he seemed to grow agitated by my resistance and ignorance. Still not letting go, he repeated his question more viciously and I knew I had no choice but to comply.

"Kairi," I said heatedly as I turned my face away from him. My mind was screaming for my twin to help me, God, what _was _she doing? Why wasn't she telling this guy to leave me alone? I allowed my eyes to search the area in my line of vision, and I finally saw her, but in a position I would have preferred not to. Entwined with the silver haired one, they were fiercely lip-locked and his hand was even in an area I'd rather not say. The sight of someone who was family in such a position sickened me to the very core, have you ever experienced that? A bit of betrayal, disgust, and the kind of feeling you get when you dearly hope the people who saw you didn't know you knew them, were with them. _Embarrassment. _And the bulky brunet and blonde girl were hooting and jeering. Eventually, Namine and the male broke apart and she looked around to see me instantly and my terrifying predicament. All she did was laugh. In that moment I hated her, hated her with such a passion that I had the sudden urge to just tear her apart, limb from limb. But I was hopeless, as the rest began to join in her laughter and taunt me instead, fear twisted my insides. _What was she doing hanging out with these people? Bringing _me_ here? She was insane! Blind! Idiotic! Stupid!_

But so was I, because I'd allowed her to take me here. I despised myself for having given in so easily.

"That's a _sexy _name for a _sexy _little lady, right guys?" He said in a husky voice, chuckling wildly as they continued to snigger. Namine's words came back to me.

_The boys will like it…_

Oh, she was so dead when we got home… if we got home. In that moment I felt so weak, so afraid, I wanted to die right there and then.

"_Hey_!" A new masculine voice shouted out from behind. The boy that held me instantly stiffened, and I could feel the sudden tension in the air as he whirled around - yanking me along with him - to face the newcomer. He sneered, and the others – except for the indifferent blonde who was already silent and ignorant to the going on's of his mates - fell quiet as they too took in the approaching male and female from the other group. I couldn't help but feel relieved, thinking, hoping, that they were here to save me. _Please, God…_

"Let go of her, she doesn't want that!" The brunette girl said angrily and so fiercely, I was temporarily flattered by her apparent concern, even if I didn't deserve it for my foolishness. Her jade green orbs locked with the ginger haired ones own, and with a grunt, he released me with a mutter of 'she's no fun, anyway'. Momentarily surprised that he'd done so that easily, I can remember that I'd staggered. But the brunette girl wrapped her fingers around one of my thin arms, her blonde companion grabbed hold of my other, and together they began to steer me back to their own group. My legs buckled as I became weak at the knees, I wondered why they'd helped me, a complete stranger, and someone that they'd regarded as one of _them_. Only I suppose they'd spotted my discomfort and decided to have mercy and come to my rescue. Have you had that feeling of liberation yourselves? Like the antelope being freed from the lion's pride, the fly being saved from the spider's web, the cat being pulled out of that dog filled room, I went limp with the emotion. My two saviours were gentle with me, pulling me back to my feet whenever I tripped over them, finally, we made it to the blanket of grass to which the others waited and set me down lightly.

"We would have sent someone sooner, but those guys can be a _pretty_ intimidating sometimes," A raven haired tiny girl piped up from my left as I landed on the ground with an almost silent thud, I looked over at her, my violet eyes meeting her warm chocolate anxious ones, she wore a bandana like thing around her small head and dressed in a strapped shirt with a sleeveless leather undone overcoat over it, her thighs were clad in shorts and her leisure trainers looked worn from regular use, "You 'Kay?"

"S-Sure," I stuttered with a gulp, "F-Fine…"

"No you're not," The blonde boy with the slicked back hair that had saved me said as he parked himself on my right and draped his arms loosely around his bent legs, it was now that I realised he wore a black shirt with an overcoat like the girls over it, only this one was beige and not leather, three-quarter cargo pants covered his legs and black converse adorned his feet, "But you will be."

"If ya didn't know them, then it was kinda silly to face them, ya know," Said another boy with bright orange hair and similar attire to the blonde as he came up behind said blonde and crouched down, balancing a blue and white ball on his knee as he queried, "So why were ya there, ya?"

The same question must have been flitting around in the others' minds, and they all looked at me expectantly when I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't, I felt too overwhelmed by their worry for me. Who was I, but a complete and utter stranger? Who were _they_? My brunette saviour caught my confused expression.

"Oh!" She exclaimed loudly, her slender hand coming up to cover her mouth in the image of surprise at her sudden realisation, "Guys, we haven't even introduced ourselves to her! Sheesh, I'm sorry Miss…?"

"Kairi," I said with a lopsided smile at her, "Just Kairi."

"Yeah, yeah," Said the small girl on my left as she winked and nudged me with her pointy elbow in a playful gesture, it hurt slightly, but I didn't enlighten her, "The Great Ninja Yuffie, at your service!" She saluted me, and I cracked up into mad giggles by her antics. I felt I liked her already.

"Hayner," The blonde one my right stated with his own crooked smile, "S'Pleasure, _Miss _Kairi."

"Olette," The chocolate haired girl said with a kind glimmer in her eyes, "That there behind Hayner is Wakka; he has an annoying obsession with Blitz Ball."

"I can introduce meself, ya?" Wakka grumbled as he straightened himself up and spared the shady group an agitated glance, "'N' they're annoying me, ya know…"

The others and I looked too, and I saw how Namine and the orange haired guy were glaring daggers, whilst Silver appeared too engrossed with nuzzling my sister's neck and the two girls were whispering together as they cast fleeting glances our way, no questions as to who they were talking about. Buffy was flexing sickeningly with a wide grin on his lips and the blonde was still staring un-seeingly, I was starting to entertain the possibility that there was something wrong with the latter. When I met my twin's bitter gaze, I knew at once that she now hated me too, more than she did before anyway. Ginger just seemed disappointed that I wasn't 'fun', which caused my insides to become nauseated, I didn't even want to _speculate _what he would have done if I hadn't been so unyielding with him. I think my complexion must have turned a nasty shade of green, because suddenly Yuffie's hand was squeezing my left one. I switched my eyes to land on her, and hers showed her deep concern for me. I didn't understand their abrupt protectiveness over me, I'd barely known them five minutes, but they were acting as if we'd all been the best of pals for five _years_.

"Why?" I whispered. Yuffie, Olette and Hayner all gave me their full attention, while Wakka continued to glower at Them, "Why are you doing this?" My voice grew fainter as I said this, and I ended it with an uncomfortable squirm. Their watching viewing spheres remained undiscouraged and unmoving. I doubted whether they'd understood my question, until Yuffie murmured, "Because you don't belong with Them, and if you don't belong there, you belong _here_."

"Yeah," Olette smiled softly, "We'll keep them away from you, Kairi, we'll be your friends here."

It amazed me how they took control so quickly, as if they _knew _I was practically friendless, the way they anticipated this was slightly daunting, but I noticed how my heart wasn't entirely bothered. I grinned at Olette and Yuffie, to which was replied to with their own.

"Thanks, guy…"

Yuffie giggled, grabbing me in a gentle headlock as she rubbed her knuckles over my scalp almost in a tender fashion, "No probleemo!" She laughed, releasing me. Olette sat down near my feet, and the two of them began to question me about myself. I felt slightly embarrassed at how there was actually hardly anything to tell them, but they didn't seem to mind so much. I noticed how Hayner got up and grabbed a skateboard which had been discarded by his side, and he and Wakka went off to do whatever it is boys did. I discovered that the raven haired one had a crazy ambition to somehow become a _ninja_, to which I'd replied to with wishing her luck, adding mentally, _and you'll need it too._ The hyper girl lived with her mother and older brother called Leon in an average home. This piece of information made me uncomfortable, particularly when they asked me where _I _lived, I stayed silent pointedly and Olette, thankfully, took the hint and changed the subject of discussion. She herself was interested in a medical path, a nurse perhaps, and she resided in a cottage by the woods with her grandparents, her parents having died some years prior. I apologized, naturally, for her parents' demise, but she was okay with it, informing me that she didn't really remember them all too much. Yuffie chirped up at some point that their little group was called 'Radiant Garden Youths – R.G.Y. for short' and when I asked her if Olette, Hayner, Wakka and she were all of them, my two new girlfriends chortled together for a lengthy amount of time when I queried such.

"Don't be silly," Yuffie tittered as she shoved against my arm lightly before resting her head on my shoulder, I'd come to two conclusions by then; one, she was a touchy feely type of person and; two, she seemed to have a habit of hitting other people, possibly in the belief that it was good training for her desired career, "There's Selphie, Tidus and Pence, too! But they were all busy today…" Her face fell into a pout.

"That's cool," I beamed, "I look forward to meeting them."

"Now, maybe," Olette snorted, "But when you meet Selphie, you'll decide that the best place to be is the furthest you can get away from her."

"Why?" I enquired with shock that she would talk about her friend in such a way, but then I saw her smirking, "Oh, lord, another _Yuffie_?" I sniggered playfully and shot the said girl a grin and a taste of her own medicine – a push. Her expression was fake hurt as she raised a hand to make it hover over her chest, her heart.

"I'm hurt," She announced, un-necessarily, although heaving with silent hysterics, she couldn't hold it in for very long, bursting into hoots of laughter as she rolled backwards, clutching her stomach. The sight of her made Olette and I exchange a look, before we mimicked her actions in similar ways. My dread, I noticed, had disappeared entirely from my system, I felt light, free and _happy _for the first time in what felt like donkey years. I expressed my amusement freely, not having the tightness in my chest, not having any limits whatsoever, I cackled and hooted and chuckled until my eyes were shedding a waterfall of salt water. Gasping to catch my breath, I suddenly realised that, honestly, there hadn't really been anything funny about what had happened. I laughed again. If none of you have ever had this feeling, then you haven't actually _lived_, I have to say. Abruptly, Olette sat up whilst wiping the tears from her damp cheeks; she looked around absently without appearing to exactly _see_ anything. I thought this, that is, until she suddenly froze, her body tensing and her mouth dropped open.

"Olette?" I asked her; unable to conceal my titters as I did so. I became conscious of the fact that the laughing didn't really make me seem entirely concerned, and I cut them off sharply as I saw her paled complexion, "Olette?" Worried now, I began to shake her arm gently, "Are you okay?"

Dumb question…

"_Him_," She finally breathed, her expression one of horror, "Oh, why doesn't he just get the _hint _and stop coming, already?" She groaned suddenly, holding her face in her palms. I gaped at her for a moment, before I heard Yuffie's brusque intake of breathe. I saw where the small girl's chocolate orbs where looking, and I followed her gaze.

I stared.

Do you ever have the kind of experience when you just can't take your eyes off something? Or off _someone_? Oh, because that was just what happened then. I simply couldn't draw my gaze away, it was _impossible_ to even consider glancing somewhere other than at… _him_.

He sat there on the once empty raised area, his back against the lonely tree and his knees drew up halfway towards his chest to support an item that he was looking at intensely. Those eyes… even from where I sat I could see the starling baby blue of their irises, pierced with concentration as a frown suddenly appeared on his brow and he pulled something from his pocket, doing something with the item to the object that held his attention, before replacing it in the depths of his pocket. From the distance, his tanned skin appeared flawless; and when his exposed feet slipped into the sunbeams, the quarter of his legs that were bare even seemed to shine in the sunlight. As I noticed this, he abrupt pulled them tighter towards himself mere seconds after they'd slithered into the light, cutting off the sun's rays from hitting them. At the almost automatic reaction, my eyes were hauled back up to study his face, roaming over what I could make out of his features. The chestnut slightly spiky hair, the hugeness of his cobalt almond shaped eyes, the thinness of his pale lips as he scowled again, but it all looked… it looked _cute_. He sighed, leaning his head back against the tree and shutting off his viewing orbs from the world, or perhaps, just me.

_Just me…_

Then his eyelids lifted rather abruptly, and his eyes caught mine.

In that second, a wave of emotions crashed down on me, emotions that I had never felt before, emotions that I couldn't even begin to describe. It was as if even time stopped moving, the only things that truly mattered was me, and _him_. Nothing else was important. As he revealed the full power of those bright blue orbs onto me, I found myself becoming mesmerised by them, just like the rolling sea, they even sparkled in their own entrancing way. After a while, Time began to move slowly again, and whilst he withheld his gaze on me, a soft smile graced his lips.

I didn't know anything about him; not his name, not his age… nothing. But, just like that desperate urge to see the musical boy's face, I had to, had to know, had to find out.

_Who was this strange but beautiful boy?_

I blinked, starting softly when I noticed my two newfound friends staring at me; it caused my face to blush a deep red, a face that hadn't blushed like this for a long long time. I bowed my head, cutting off the connection I had with that boy completely, and allowed my henna tresses to cover my embarrassed features and the magenta tinge to my normally pale cheeks. When I sneaked a peek, I saw the corner of Olette's lips twitch.

"He's quite the catch, huh?" She said in a somewhat emotionless voice, the tone startled me into meeting her blank jade green eyes, "You'll realise soon that it's not such a good thing, especially to Them."

"What do you mean?" I asked softly, looking again at him and wondering quite what the brunette was talking about. He'd closed his eyes again, and he looked so innocent and harmless as he lingered in limbo from awareness and unawareness, that I speculated why anyone would want to hurt someone who looked so breathtaking, delicate and frail… _Or was that every bully's dream? _Yuffie caught my unconvinced gaze.

"Most of the teenagers around here would gladly stop to terrorize him, Kairi, people call him the urchin, the gyppo, the tramp… and that's why _they_ hate him so much, because they believe he's what those names suggest, or at least that's Hayner's reasoning."

"_Hayner_ hates him?"

Yuffie's lip twitched; "As well as everyone else, there's only me and Ol who really leave him alone around here."

"He doesn't fight," Olette murmured in a sparsely audible voice, "He just runs, and if he can't, he takes the hit, it's horrible to watch him suffer."

I stared at both the raven haired girl and the brunette intently, disgusted by the obvious truth of what they had said, it was as plain as day, the boy literally screamed 'weak' and that was what attracted the bullies, the thugs… people who just generally wanted to cause pain. But to call him things like an _urchin_? To degrade someone to such a degree and torment them because of it was revolting, and the fact that it was this particular boy made it all the worse for some reason. I don't get why, but a sudden emotion rose within me like a whip being unfurled and cracked vehemently, making my worn out blood roar through my veins. I felt angry, beyond angry, I was livid. And with this abrupt flare of emotion came another one, one that longed to protect this stranger, this boy. I didn't understand it, didn't grasp the concept, and I didn't even try to work it out. It was instinct, purely a feeling that you don't think about, but just act upon. Like a mother lioness when her cub is threatened, like a dog would snarl when its family is in danger, like a swan as it squawks and charges you when it sees you as a menace to its ducklings… but come to think of it, these vibes were all dredged up from the urge to protect someone they knew, they loved. This boy… I didn't know him at all. And that would have confused me like hell, if I'd dwelled on it.

And yet, it was as if I knew all about him.

"Kairi?"

I hardly heard the sound of Olette's voice, didn't see either of their faces, all I noticed was Silver as he looked up and became aware of the boy's presence. A cruel smile lit the male's harsh face as he turned with an excited aura to inform the others. They was a general murmur of such enthusiasm that it sickened me, and as they got up and started to move towards Him, and Hayner and Wakka glanced up too, the stab of fear at my heart was worse than ice, much worse. It was pure glacier, black ice for dark feelings. When Silver leapt onto the raised area and began to saunter almost casually as if to postpone in the moment of suspense, I didn't even notice when I stood. Yuffie's slender fingers gripped my arm.

"Kairi, don't!"

I shook her off sub-consciously, only alert of the gang of shady thugs that were nearly by the boy's side. I made my way over to them, heard a voice that floated to me on the light breeze, and stopped to listen. After all, I didn't want to make a fool of myself if they weren't threatening him, if they were just pausing for a chat… who was I kidding? I wasn't, I wasn't kidding at all, not even myself. I crossed me arms over my chest, and I expected Yuffie or Olette or both of them to materialise by my sides, but they didn't, I didn't know whether to be grateful or not, laugh or cry by their lack of support. Or had they sensed something that said I wanted to do this alone?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

"Oi, _boy_," Silver drawled to the delight of his companions, who began to leer. Surprisingly, the boy remained unmoving; he didn't acknowledge their dominating presences at all, merely carrying on with what he was doing as if they weren't even there. I couldn't help but smile at his courage, there was no way he couldn't have known they were there, but I was mentally wondering why he wasn't hurrying away already, these guys had obviously not stopped for a good old natter between old friends, they were there to hurt him.

_Why aren't you running?_

Silver crouched down beside him, putting his face right up close to the boy's own tanned one, "I _said_," He spat, "_Boy_." Still no answer, regardless of their previous terror for him, I could hear Olette and Yuffie struggling to keep their laughter down without much success as an amused smile graced my own lips. I felt torn, though, are you familiar with that feeling? Half of you heaves with quiet chortles as the other half screams for them to get out of there, you find it funny and yet, it worries you too. Wakka and Hayner were looking on with impatient anticipation; I threw them a scowl which they didn't see before a looked back at the unfolding scene.

Right into the eyes of the brightest of blues I'd ever seen.

And so, blue eyes met violet eyes for the second time.

It was one of those gazes that you simply couldn't break, staring into their wide depths; I saw the pain and the fury already there. It surprised me into blinking; he was angry? At _me_? But what had I done? As soon as I blinked, his eyes flickered away to land on Silver's face and I could have mistaken that the look was meant for him instead. But the look on his beautiful face scared me as his cobalt orbs met the aqua-marine ones of the silver haired idiot. Blank, glassy, totally void of all emotion, not a shred of the anger in them that I had seen mere seconds prior. He was staring, but he wasn't seeing at all. I think I knew how he felt right then, to me it was the look that said 'I can't be bothered', but I was proved wrong later on, oh so wrong. However, he was quick to see when Silver snatched the object that he'd been concentrating on from his grasp. The bully back-pedalled as the boy sprang to his feet, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again with a jerk when Silver chucked what I now recognised as a pad of paper to Ginger. The latter grinned widely as he caught it, and flipped the scribbling pad to a random page before taking a few of the flimsy paper in his thick hands and tearing them into two. I saw this in the corner of my eye, my pupils trained on the boy who, when his pad was half destroyed, visibly paled. A look of vulnerability, weakness, hopelessness and surrender.

_Don't look like that, _I'll _be strong; I'll be strong for the both of us._

My fury burst and before I knew it I was running at Ginger, I could _feel _the fire in my eyes, have you ever had that? When you can sense the heat dancing within you infuriated pupils, which were narrowed to slits. Feel it swaying as if a flame took residence with your eyeball? That's what the sensation was like, the scorching inferno licking at my sight, making it hard to see anything but my desired location; the ginger prick. He laughed as I closed in, scattering the pieces of paper over the ground slowly, as if to drag it out like it gave him some sick twisted pleasure. I stormed right up to him, standing before him. I heard the sound of Namine's irritating laughter at the display; surely, it was a sight to see. Someone like myself standing up to macho man; un-sociable and weak, feeble and frail and fragile… unable to decide for myself, to take care of myself, to make decisions that would affect me…

Not a chance.

I'd prove her wrong; I'd prove it right now, in front of her manic and vile 'friends' I'll rein supreme for once. I held out my hand, still shaking from my passionate vehemence.

"Give it to me."

His laugh turned hysterical, as he proceeded to gather more paper between his hand and rip them apart like before. I grabbed them, effectively preventing any such event from occurring as I crushed them as hard as I could. Startled by the move, his grip on the pad slackened as he instinctively returned my grasp, albeit much stronger than my own. I took the chance whilst I could, wrapping my free hand around the pad and tugging it from his lessened clutch. He tried to retaliate with a hard shove against my arm via my squeezed hand, but this only proved to my advantage as I was able to get the paper fully out of his clenched hand and used his refute by way of getting away faster. I went with the momentum as I careened backwards, then I was able to stagger and regain control as I took off for the boy, vaulting onto the raised autumn tainted grass and almost reaching his side before the ginger idiot had even comprehended that I'd got away with the desired item.

He snarled, but his feet remained fixed to the ground, possibly surprised he'd had the better gotten of him, by a _girl _no less.

I grinned as I slowed to a fast walk, a couple more paces and I was standing next to the boy, smiling at him and holding the pad out for him to take which, miraculously, wasn't damaged during the struggle. I intended for him to grab it and run, get the hell away from here and never come back, what was the point in returning if they were going to just wound him, both mentally and physically? There wasn't one. _Take it, go on, take it and get out of here…_ I gazed into his shocked cobalt eyes, and for a moment I saw nothing else and felt nothing at all. Then the resentment filtered into them, and his brow puckered into an enraged frown as he opened his mouth to yell at me.

"Go on!"

I froze, my violet eyes wide as they stared into his incense ones, a blue gaze that opened up like nothing else could: anger, pain, suffering, defeat, bitterness, resent… fury was now etched across his features as he pointed an accusing finger at me, the limb shook as he struggled to steady himself, "Go on and tear it up, then!"

My jaw dropped at the assumption that I was going to further damage his property, further damage him. What was he expecting? That I'd taken it from Ginger to come and tear it up right before his eyes? I couldn't move from the sheer astonishment, my knuckles somehow managing to turn white as my grip on the pad tightened. When my hands did this, a smirk appeared on his face for some reason, which confused me, why would he smile?

"I'm not going to do that," I whispered finally, my voice breaking as my eyes pricked with tears. Have you ever had that feeling when you've been accused of something that your totally innocent of, and you'd been sure the person doing the accusation would know that, understand that? It hurt, it hurt so much. I clenched my teeth in an attempt to stem any kind of flow of salt water.

The amusement disappeared from his lips and he was angry again.

"Yes, you are, so go on and do it, you tart, get it over and done with already!"

My anger was renewed at the name that he'd called me, 'tart' indeed! I wasn't a tart, I truly wasn't, why didn't he see that? Is that really how he saw me? A tart, a slag, a bitch, just like the rest of them? It was as if nobody else but this boy and I existed right then, my eyes were focused solely on his as I screamed before I could stop myself;

"I'm _not _a tart!"

He snorted, crossing his arms over his navy fleece adorned chest as he glared at me through narrowed slits. For a moment there was complete silence before the emotion in his eyes suddenly changed, blinking rapidly, he bowed his head and seemed to become interested in studying the ground as he said; "Just do it already…" The new vibe behind his words was hard to decipher, it wasn't anger, it wasn't sadness, I didn't know what it was, but I knew I didn't like it. They were quiet, barely a murmur as he shielded his eyes away from my curious ones, hiding away the true window to his soul, making it impossible for anyone to see them at all. Before I knew it my fury died yet _again_ and my own voice was soft as I replied.

"Do you want me to do it?" They weren't rhetorical, they weren't mocking or irritated. No, now I was just plainly asking him, because I really didn't know what to think anymore. He'd confused me so much by the abrupt mood swing. All it was now was probing, enquiring, begging to understand the meaning behind his strange behaviour. He glanced up at me by the sudden change in my tone as well, before lowering his eyes once more.

"Not…really." And then he turned and began to walk away without another word, head still bowed and hands buried deep in the pockets of his three-quarter shorts. I watched him leave, slightly baffled by the abruptness, to tell you the truth. Just before he disappeared around the corner of the shop towards the side alley, he rested his hand against the wall and looked back once, only once, and our eyes locked for a final time. His orbs had showed me his emotions, and then I'd known how he was feeling then; confused and unsure. He lifted his shoulder in a miffing gesture, glancing downwards, he departed the scene. When he did, I'd suddenly had enough.

Enough of Namine. Enough of Silver and Ginger. Enough of even Olette and Yuffie. And certainly enough of _him,_ to the point of wanting to just scream. I'd simply had _enough._

Clutching the pad to my breast, I pivoted around on the tips of my toes and sprinted in the opposite direction. I didn't spare anyone a glance as I passed them. Everyone, everything, it was all too alien again, unfamiliar to the point of pushing me off the edge and into insanity. I hated just about the whole lot of… _life_. Why? Because _he _had misjudged me to such a great extent, I felt hollow and futile inside, I felt worthless.

**When I got home, I ran straight up to my bedroom and dove onto my queen-sized bed. My throat felt raw by the time I'd stopped screaming.**

::**x**.**x**::

You made me feel so **insincere** that day.  
I _**hurt**_ myself from _**screaming**_.  
Your first **i**mpression of me was a t a r t.  
What do you see me as **now**?

* * *

**End of Chapter One.**

I know it was lengthy, but if it really turns out to be a problem, just let me know.  
Personally, I prefer longer chapters, not as much time uploading pages than reading. :)  
I update slowly, and I'm going to be changing things too, but it won't ever be anything important.  
If it is, I'm sure you'll work it out easily enough. And I'll say sorry for it now.

**Chap2 Sneak Preview:**

…_I couldn't. There was more to this than met the eye. I could just… I felt it. Have you ever had that? You see something, but you don't believe that's all there is to it. Take swans for example, beautiful creatures, right? Yeah, and a single blow from their wing could break your bones. Seriously. I read it somewhere. No… someone told me. Someone, but I can't exactly remember. Like people in general, you have the pretty ones who are horrible and selfish inside, and the ugly ones who are kind and considerate. Like… like The Boy. There was more to him than a broken child who gets picked on by the dominating and menacing thugs. More, so much more. But right then, I had no idea exactly what that something 'more' was. I can't fortune tell, after all. And nobody pales to a deathly white when their pad is being torn, never to the extent he did, even if it was a most prized possession._

God damn it, woman.

_There was nothing else for it, now I was curious as well as just longing to._

_I opened the pad._

Dun dun dunnn, woahhh, the suspense is killing me! :o  
No. But it's got you thinking, right? Ahehehehe. Evil awesomeness.  
Why do I even bother with this S.P.? You're just going to upload the next chapter if you wanted to and read it anyway…  
Silly me, but I was bored and I wanted to. End of story.

**A **s_**toryteller**_** is I, now it ends we say **g_**oodbye**_**.**

**onlylotte.  
**


	2. Chapter Two: A Mind

**Full Summary:  
**_**His little light and little fire, to mess with her is to burn.  
**__From the moment that Kairi see's the boy, she feels an instant connection to him. And when she talks to him properly; her world comes alive. However, to everyone else, he quickly becomes an object of hatred and jealousy. Kairi naively tries to understand just why people despise and turn the boy down, as well as the meaning behind her motherly protection over him. But Fate is a cruel thing, for by some sick and twisted turn of it, Kairi is torn beyond repair when he suddenly has to leave._

_Only it is when he goes that she realises that she must do what was right in her heart._

I did warn you it would be a while :P  
I'm not dead, just so you know if you didn't already.  
There's no dialogue in this one at all O.O I know I know, I mean, no talking? What the hell? But this is only part I to Sunday, not the whole day.  
The entire thing was… well, it was long enough for me to put it into two separate chapters; self explanatory.

**Disclaimer: **Do not get me started on this thing again… _No._

**E**njo**y**.

* * *

"_To think deeply can reveal answers that not thinking can not; but seek them with vigilance, there's still no telling what they could be."_

**A **_Mind of deep Speculations.  
_**S**_unda_y.  
**29****th**** - 30****th ****O**_ctober_.

**Tonight, I laughed at the simple idea of considering trying to get to sleep without my midnight walk first. If I thought I'd had a lot to think over twenty-four hours ago, then I** certainly had plenty to mull over now. The sky was very much like the hours of darkness yesterday, dense with its many hues and sparkling with the luminous balls of gas that burned billions and billions of miles away. My heart leapt at the points of cobalt blue I could decipher from the endless black canvas, remembering _his _piercing gaze, particularly the last. He suffered, terribly, but he put up with it. _Why? _But, of course, there was no-one who could answer me; no-one could, except for him.

"_Yes, you are, so go on and do it, you tart, get it over and done with already!"_

Misjudged. He'd misjudged me so badly, and to this hour at night it was still painful in my chest from the impact of those words. I felt defeated, so sure that he'd never speak to me again.

I paused on the side-walk, glancing out towards the shimmering ocean waters with a solemn gleam in my eyes; I knew it was there, it was inevitable. The air was like a warm breathe as it caressed my skin, it made me think of Ginger again with his own rancid breathing, and I shivered.

Dinner the evening just gone had been a disaster, to which I'd ended up sprinting from the room with tears leaking from my viewing orbs. Namine was a literal nightmare now, like one of those zombie like ladies with the terribly chilly glare that tends to shoot through you like ice. Mother had been pestering us both about the day, whilst we'd only answered her with a loud silence; it was one of those rare occasions where we seem to come to a mutual agreement without uttering a single word; never tell them what happened that day. At least, Namine didn't want to get into trouble – like she hardly would, I'd probably just get the blame – and it was either to blurt it all out and have my twin hunt me down or keep it zipped and through away the key, for me. Finally, under all the obvious strain of it all, Father had snapped. And boy, you do not want my father to snap. Or, not snap, it was more boom, as great as boom can become in a vocal sense. I hated them, absolutely despised them, why did I have to end up with such a blind family? Why couldn't Namine see sense to steer clear of Them? Why couldn't Mother see sense to not pester? Why couldn't Father see sense to get anger management control? Hell, _seriously. _Lay in my bed mere minutes ago, I knew it was predestined that I should feel the urge to walk again under the pale moonlight now.

So here I was, although not exactly walking anymore. I was motionless in my deep thoughts, completely immobile. Until I crossed my arms over my chest again, but not in the act of warming myself up, but rather just for the sense of security, of having something holding me and reminding me that I wasn't about to fall apart, because that was how it felt right then, like I was breaking up bit by agonising bit. Have you ever experienced that kind of emotion? I felt as if I was dying inside, like a wilting flower, slowly but steadily wilting away. I didn't like it much, I'm sure no-one would have. With a slow sigh that tickled my lips, I forced my feet to shuffle forwards.

Yuffie and Olette, would they forgive me for my ignorance? Would I ever get that chance to meet Selphie and the others? I wouldn't blame them if they hated me now as much as I hated myself; in fact, I almost wished that they did right then. If they were to bound up to me at all after that fiasco with wide smiles on their faces, then I might just find myself knocking sense into them before they got the brains to loathe me. To you, it may not seem such a big deal, but I think to just leave like that – or something, what happened… I just felt that if that happened to me if I was put in their shoes, I wouldn't be best pleased, to put it mildly.

My shoulders slumped at the very thought, I'd truly thought that I'd found some true friends. But then, of course, _he'd _had to come along. I couldn't blame him though; I didn't have the heart to. After all, it was far from being his fault, he'd just harmlessly wandered into out midst, only to have his property purposely taken from him and have all hell break loose around himself as well as me and just about everyone else. Speaking of the latter, I'd left the pad in my bedroom, hidden from view in my underwear draw. Yeah, I know, it was a strange choice but it was the first draw that shoved its handle into my palm. I daren't take a peek in it, having first seen him engrossed with it, it seemed like a part of him to me now, and I'd scarcely been the type to invade on what felt like other people's privacy. The strength of the inclination to open up those pages, though, to open up his heart, it was fairly frightening, and the fact that it was appealing to me so much didn't help in the slightest. So I'd shoved it where it now lay, buried deep, but unforgotten.

And what of Namine with that Silver bloke? I'd always regarded my obnoxious sibling as blind – as aforementioned, if you hadn't exactly caught on – but this was going way too far. How could she not see that that… _bastard_ was just using her? Just playing around with her? Or, at least, that was how it'd seemed to me. Perhaps I was wrong, but an even scarier thought, perhaps I was _right_. And what would happen then? Namine would be a broken girl, betrayed, confused and isolate herself from the world as she wept waterfalls.

And Silver? Silver'd just laugh, slap his thigh and call upon the next girl. "Roll up, roll up, free sex for all!"

Even if I felt as if I hated my sister right then, I couldn't help but feel angry at that time for her sake. My grip on my elbows tightened as I sub-consciously quickened my pace, and my teeth became clenched. If I can, I vowed, I'll help her to see sense if my assumption proves correct. It would still hurt if she truly had feelings for him, but it would hurt a hell load more if he were to use then ditch her. Hit and run, that was the way I saw it. But this version was ten times more cowardly.

The mere thought of Ginger already had my body cringing. Him? I'll just be avoiding that dude at _all _costs. I mused over how obviously weak I'd been when he'd grabbed hold of me, maybe I really needed lessons on self defence after all, they'd be incredibly useful for times like that, make those thugs think twice before attempting things like that again.

Suits me.

At first, R.G.Y. had seemed a great group of people; friendly, easygoing, a good laugh… until I'd learnt that everybody but Olette and Yuffie hated that boy because of rumours and first impressions. Had my chance been ruined too, then? His initial notion towards me, the foremost thought that had run through his wounded mind had been things along the line of 'tart'. His first impression, would I get a second chance? Would there be a round two? I didn't know, I couldn't know, how could I have? Those thoughts were questioning the happenings of the future, things that hadn't occurred just yet.

Of course, I know what ensued now.

Possibly, you do too.

I trudged on my way, my heart settling deeper and deeper into despair with every shuffle of my weary feet. Maybe I'd had enough for one night, I thought finally, so I stopped and prepared to leave. As I took the first step on track to saunter back the way I'd come, the way back home, a familiar melody drifted into hearing distance, a tune that I'd hoped to hear again but hadn't entirely been expecting to. I halted in momentary surprise, before a soft smile graced my lips and all feelings melted away to be replaced by a gentle happiness.

Never mind.

I allowed the song to guide my feet, and then I came to the exact same spot to which it'd led me to the previous night. The same stretch of beach, the same palm tree, the same shadowed figure stood there once again, playing the unknown instrument… I noticed the slight angry hint to it this time, but quickly disregarded it. That night, I sat on the low stone wall and simply listened to the harmony. Staring at his lean outline and wondering again about his identity.

That night… I thought I recognised him.

**Only thought.**

::**x**.**x**::

I don't think **either **of us _**noticed**_ it was the _**other**_ back then.  
Just simply **s**itting there, I didn't realise that I d a r k e n e d our flash of led.  
But I did, and sometimes, things I do even **surprises** me.

::**x**.**x**::

_**I dreamed of him again.**_

_I dreamed of sunshine with grass and daisies and the musical boy I knew nothing about… only this time, he had _his_ face, _his_ clothes, _his_ wide blue eyes… _

_We'd talked like old friends, with a picnic of foods I didn't even know about, had you asked me what we'd eaten, I could not answer with the truth. I didn't know. The golden orb sun had showed me beauty that I'd never seen before, illuminated his face, casting shadows on any crevices and dips in his skin. His laugh sweet and his smile dazzling, it was heaven for my already infatuated mind. My violet eyes had seen things that I'd even missed in reality, the hollowness of his cheeks with those high cheek bones, the way his bronze hair would shine in the radiance of the closest star, the way his viewing windows never ceased to sparkle – or was that the presence of the sun's light upon them? Those sunbeams… warming me up on the inside and out, flooding my contented brain with brilliant feelings of promised safety. I'd been void of thoughts; void of everything… my mind had been simply empty, concentrating on what I'd seen then, sunshine, grass, daisies… and him, him and nothing else in the entire world mattered to me as I'd sat there amidst the waving grass. Friendly waves. I'd waved back as I'd giggled wildly; the happiness had flushed and heated my normally pale complexion. He'd plucked a white daisy from among the tickling blades of greenery, which were looking like jade pigmented fingers as the flailed around, and placed it into my hair, entwining the stem with strands of my red-wine tresses. _

_All this, I'd treasured, but none of it was what had happened best. So what had been best?_

_It was when he'd touched my cheek, a welcoming and open gesture, it could have meant many things, and it could have meant nothing at all. When he'd brushed his soft fingertips along the outline of my face and the length of my jaw, it had made my heart lurch, but in a good way. That took my breath away, except… the look in his eyes hadn't matched the mood. They'd been solemn, saddened and tender in that way. It felt like he had been saying something he didn't want to, something like…_

_Goodbye._

_My dream world had been suddenly plunged into darkness._

_All I had seen was a pair of glowing sickly yellow eyes, pulsating nauseatingly with the abyss of gloom surrounding them. Something about them had stabbed terror into my heart, an instinct to run away from them. I didn't run._

_I'd screamed though._

And woke doing the latter.

Naturally, my body bolted up into a sitting position, my breathing was hard. For a few moments, I simply sat there, trying to regain control over my wild gasps and calm my frantic heart, my slim hand flitting up to rest gently against my chest as I directed my gaze out of the window. Still dark, a canvas of punctured dots to which the light filtered through, still a rainbow of mysterious colours. I sighed after the fear had passed, and slumped back into my pillows. What was that about? I wondered, what did it mean? I voiced my questions.

I didn't know.

**Neither did the air.**

::**x**.**x**::

My **dream** of you could have meant **nothing**,  
I _**knew**_, though, that there was _**deep**_ meaning.  
I **h**ad to see you again, I wanted to u n d e r s t a n d,  
But I was hesitant, didn't you **hate** me?

::**x**.**x**::

**That next morning was similar to the last, and yet, so completely different. For starters, no Namine came to bring an abrupt start to my day, also, my massive** **room was **strangely cool; which surprised and even amused me a little considering yesterday had been almost unbearable. Like a warm winter's breeze, it was pleasant to snuggle into a silky duvet that wasn't damp with perspiration, and not to feel an overwhelmingly sickening hotness. Like yesterday. It was the same, however, in the aspects of the serene and peaceful aura that I drifted into consciousness with, as well as the overpowering cosiness.

Ever heard of déjà vu? Yeah, there was a slice of that, too. The feeling of having been there before. But then, you wonder, don't I wake up like this most mornings? Nah, I'll reply, if I'm lucky I'll be in a state of drowsiness, not sleep, when the bloody maids come calling. Not politely, either, mind you.

I don't know how long I lay there for, but this time, I really can remember hearing the birds whistling, and I really can remember feeling that urge to study the endless space above in all its early morning grandeur. I huffed slightly, and forced myself to finally roll over rather reluctantly to see what time it was, my alarm clock read 10:55am.

Well, it was better than 7:36am at any rate.

With a small sigh, I turned back over to pretty much adopt my previous position. My sleep encrusted eyes stared out of the pale blue panes of glass on my balcony doors, displaying the morning sky to my squinting orbs, which were peering through sleeps haze and adjusting to the sudden blinding light. The heavens were painted a soft cobalt colour today, I thought quite brightly at first, that's a good omen and promised a nice day ahead. But then another thought rudely barged in and dominated my mind, so I abruptly veered my gaze away, because the thought was screaming a remembrance about _him_. And the thought of _him_ caused me to think about the previous night and reminisce about my dream; it was a rather random recall, come to think of it, when there was also yesterday to mope about, but I didn't dwell on it.

In the dream I'd combined The Boy with that musical one, but the results had seemed so right. As if they were meant to be one and the same. Did it mean anything? Did it mean nothing at all?

And then those glowing yellow eyes and that sudden flare of fear… just like that first night that I'd seen that shadowed figure and heard that glorious music. But the eyes had been so inhuman… animalistic, even…

Suddenly, I was jerked out of my reverie by a sudden blaring noise behind me. I smiled wryly. Of course, if it wasn't Namine, and it wasn't the maids, it was my alarm clock. Can I ever get a chance for a nice lie in? Although I was surprised by how fast those five minutes had passed by.

**_--._Of_ a_****larm **_**clocks **_**scream**_**ing**_**.--**

My head began to hurt.

Of course, I didn't like the latter, so drastic action had to take place. I turned again to face the noisy creation for waking people up and slammed my palm on top of it, effectively shutting it up, much to my relief. Then I got out of bed. Well, I didn't exactly just _get _out of bed, it was more like sitting up, peeling the covers away, battling my way through the many pillows surrounding me, falling clumsily towards the floor when I didn't realise it was the edge of my bed – if you could ever fall to the floor gracefully, I'd be more than mildly surprised. Then it was a matter of stopping myself before I hit the floor entirely, carefully extracting the rest of my body from the mattress, bearing the burden of a landslide of pillows and sheets, disentangling myself from it all. Then finally, _finally_, I get to my feet and am faced with the task of 'making my bed'. It was more like 'remaking my bed', in all honesty, but it works just the same. And all of this was merely the movement of just _getting out of bed_; but it was actually a whole challenge in itself, one where I deserve a blooming trophy at the end. "Congratulations, you have just escaped from your monster bed, is there anything you would like to say?" "Whew, it was hard work, but I got there eventually!"

Chyeah.

After replacing the last pillow and straightening it out smoothly, I sauntered into my en-suite. Sparing you the details, I made use of the toilet, the sink and the shower in record time, then sauntered right back out with a towel secured around my body and one wrapped around my wet hair. Grossly, my tresses appeared _blood_ red whilst soaked with liquid, so I dried it quickly. Releasing it from its towel wrappings, I shook it out before sitting myself down gracefully – go figure – in front of my mirror which was stationed on a dressing table. I ran my fingers through the dripping locks are I allowed the warm air supplied by my super powerful hair dryer to blow against the strands, losing myself to my thoughts as I did so.

Today would be a perfectly normal day, I was certain of that; today I will merely stay inside and carry on with my unsociable life as if yesterday never happened. Forget Olette and Yuffie, Hayner and Wakka. Forget R.G.Y totally, shove the thought of Them towards the back of my mind, throw it into a black hole and bury it deep. Burn it. Lose it. Bash it up until you can't make it out anymore. Bend it. Twist it. Anything. Just as long as it disappears…

Easier said than done, as my good old father always says.

I switched the hair dryer off, proceeding to stare at myself in the mirror when my reflection captured my gaze. I observed my pale heart-shaped face; with its deep violet eyes, button nose and cherry red lips, my cheeks were rosy from the heat of the shower. I observed my damp red-wine mane of hair as it fell like curtains down the sides of my face, outlining my features by the stark contrast between the two colours and looking rather wild. I observed my somewhat longer than normal 'elegant' neck, if my sparse old memories of compliments from mother inform me so correctly. Besides that frequently spoken remark which was most likely to have been intended to flatter me, I could faintly recollect how mother had labelled me as beautiful before it had got to the point where I should have been going out when, instead, I was still insisting on staying inside where I – quite happily, thank you – spent my time painting, drawing, reading, writing, playing… as an alternative from going out to Twyport, the cinema, the park and the beach as Namine was. Or at least, that was where she'd always told us she was going, although now I'm not entirely sure. Since then, it's like Mother lost interest in me. Lastly, I just stared at myself, faced myself.

_Is this how it is, Kairi? _I found myself thinking, found myself asking myself, _will you be spending the rest of your life, go through the years of being a young adult, an adult, a middle aged person, an elder, simply living it all out within the four brick walls that house your room? Will you die with a pencil, a paintbrush, a book, or a piece of paper in your hand? Is this how life will be for you? _No. That was what I wanted to answer myself with, no, it won't be like that… but then, I was hardly making any effect for it to be otherwise. I couldn't tell myself I'll visit the outside world if I wasn't planning to…

It felt like a hopeless situation, a lose-lose one, as it were. If I went outside I'll be out in the open. It's dangerous out there, unsafe, there's no telling what dangers lurk around the next corner. Take Ginger for example, and I don't particularly think that anything else needs to be said, personally. I don't fancy another predicament like _that_. Yeah, there's that. There's the feeling of hesitation, like the baby taking their first steps, like the young bird attempting flight for the first time, like the newborn chick crawling out of the egg shell. Wary. Cautious. Alert. Taking the first steps towards the outside world and the unknown that riddled it throughout. However, aside from all that, leaving the confides of my mansion home yesterday to journey out into the unknown, I can actually remember a sense of freedom. Excitement, even. And it hadn't been such a bad feeling either. An emotion to contradict with the aforementioned vigilance entirely. But it all links in, doesn't it? Because I'm sure that the baby, the bird and the chick would feel jubilation upon their individual success.

I know I did.

Also, I'll admit it, I wouldn't mind seeing _him _again, just the chance to be able to talk to him like the civil human beings we're supposed to be would be enough. I need to apologise, after all, say that I'm sorry for whatever it is I'd done to offend him. I wanted to set things straight again with him, turn over a new leaf, start over. We don't even have to know each other, just as long as he understands, and so we can live in the same Town whilst being capable of bearing the burden of each others company. We could pass each other sometimes, perhaps we'd smile, anything would be better than what we have now. Starting off on the wrong foot, I never thought I'd experience that phrase so abruptly after years of isolation within the very room I sat in now. And he needs his pad back…

Aw, shoot.

The pad.

And there's that sense of longing again. What's the matter with me? It's just a wad of paper, paper with flashes of led from a pencil etched onto it… led applied by his own hands…no. It meant nothing, nothing at all. Stop thinking about it, forget it…

_Easier said than done._

Desperate to distract myself, I hurriedly stood up and attempted to cross the floor towards my wardrobe. Such a desired distraction, however, came in an entirely different form to what I'd had in mind. Before I reached my closet, I caught something in the corner of my eye that looked out of place compared to its surroundings. It caused me to pause as my eyes sought to investigate; so of course I looked over at the distraction, and of course I realised what it was. It was the lines I had made in the carpet yesterday when I'd dragged my feet and, therefore, pulled the segments in the opposite direction. For a second I stared at them, wondering vaguely about how I'd missed them the day before when they were in clear view. Shrugging to myself slightly, I strolled up to them and used my feet to sort them out, dragging my heels over them so that they went back to the same colour as the rest of the carpet. Pleased with my success and totally grateful to have a temporary diversion, I walked up to my wardrobe with a new spring in my step.

If I'd stopped to think back then, I would have became conscious of the fact that nobody else had come along to set the carpet right. I had. Me. The one who had changed it in the first place. But it seems I wasn't observant enough to even pause to think in my brief flare of triumph.

Carefully, and taking my time, I opened the door to my wardrobe and began to scrutinize each and every item. It reminded my sickeningly of Namine when I began to take some out and hold them up against myself, examining them as to what they would look like upon me by an easier method. I scrunched up my face when I comprehended this, scrunched it up in utter disgust as I threw the unfortunate top I had been holding onto the floor in sheer astonishment and to get it off my hands by the fasted means possible. Shocked, I forced myself to take deep breathes to calm myself. Everything was fine, it was okay, it wasn't _that _bad, I'd only been acting as Namine would have if she had been in my situation…

Oh dear lord, help me _please._

With a sigh, I picked the tee-shirt back up and, instead of making it hover in front of my chest; I proceeded to study it at a distance. It was one of the more lucky shirts, one that wasn't covered with smudges of smeared paint that had proved impossible to rub off, anyway. A simple royal purple in colour that rivalled my carpet for deepness, there was an image of a white heart with some complicated swirls surrounding it of the same pigment, plus strips running horizontal down its entire length. It was rather long in length, too, if I'd put it on it would have gone down till the rim went over mid-thigh. It wasn't a normal rim, either; there was something just under the material that allowed you to tighten it if you wanted. Short sleeved, relatively loose, and just the way I liked my attire to be. I set the top carefully upon my bed behind me – walking a few paces in the process – and grabbed my favourite pair of boyfriend jeans from the wardrobe immediately, almost tearing it off its hanger. With a pause, and a rather sheepish grin, I began to undress myself to dress into what _I _liked, what _I _felt most comfortable in. Boyfriend jeans were perfect for my cause, comfortably slack with their grip on my figure, as long as I had a belt to hold them up then wearing them was flawlessly fine. When it came to underwear, and I opened my draw with my goal being to retrieve some, I rediscovered something… something with somewhat mild importance.

Why, it was that blasted pad.

Thus which, of course, ruined everything. For a moment I stared at the sketchpad. Then, quite abruptly, I closed the draw with a relatively loud _bang_. It took me a couple more seconds, because I'm so slow, to figure out that I hadn't even got what I'd first opened the blooming draw for. I groaned.

_**This, **_**I thought sourly, **_**is going to be one hell of a day.**_

::**x**.**x**::

You really have **no** idea how incredibly **t**empting it was,  
To open your _**sketchpad**_, open your _**heart**_.  
You also have no idea how h a r d I resisted,  
But even you **k**now how **weak** I am at times.

::**x**.**x**::

**I tried everything.**

I tried to indulge myself within one of my favourite novels of all time. _Lucas_. By Kevin Brooks. I love him to bits; his writing style just blows me away. However, the storyline caused me to relate to my own life with its most recent happenings, the life that seems to have began since yesterday. It was the usual girl meets boy, girl feels connected to boy; then the not-quite-so-usual boy is mysterious and strange, boy is blank and instinctive when faced with danger, blah blah blah, everyone else hates him… I ended up throwing the bloody thing across the room in frustration and rage. Crying out as I did so with the force of the pent up emotions. Think Lion. No. Think Cat. That's how pathetic it sounded. Meooooooooow_. Please._ I seriously need to work on that kind of thing.

Desperate. Exasperated. Impatient. Too much energy that has no use. Painting, I thought, painting always calms me down. So I got to it immediately, bouncing on the balls of my feet in a futile attempt to use up some of the energy that was somewhat randomly pounding through my body and literally begging to be used up. My blood was fuelled by my anger and annoyance, I assumed. I took my time, however, to assemble things up. Get the easel. Get a clean canvas – because I had money to waste like that. Get the paintbrushes and the water. Paper towels. Get the palette and the paints. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet… that's it, the colours of the rainbow. Think rainbow. Think colour. Think sunshine and happiness. Think leaping sheep and neighing horses, sunflowers that wear sunglasses. Shimmering, twirling, twisting swirls and golden light. Illuminated dust motes. Candy clouds of lullaby. That's right, you've got it, you've grasped it. Now, take the mood for your own, force yourself to feel it, wear a smile – yeah, go on, you can do it.

Paint it.

So I did.

I took the brush, dipped the tip of it into the nearest colour; I don't know which, and allowed it to guide itself across the canvas. Flick. Stroke. Dab. Flash. Twirling, spiralling… I lost myself to the dream world of my childish fantasy. Anything to forget reality, anything to forget the feelings and regret that I felt right then. The regret of having involved myself with the events that unfolded within 'The Gardens', I should have just stayed put when they stole his pad from him, should have just looked on with interest like the rest of them. I could have done it, I know I could, but for that emotion that rose inside of me… I couldn't control it, I just couldn't. I wasn't strong enough…

_After every fight, every argument and disagreement, she always came out as the victor, reigned supreme. Was it her doing, or mine? Was she strong, or was I just weak? Feeble and frail and fragile… unable to decide for myself, to take care of myself, to make decisions that would affect me. It was them, all the time it was them who did it all as I blundered along in their self-centred wake with the occasional pull and tug, like luggage, without thoughts and without feelings, just simply there as something else the needed to take with them for the ride. Was that me?_

_Yes, it was me, as silent as leather because I hated to talk to them, always allowing them to decide. But I could change that; I could have the power to change that if I wanted, right? Stand up to them, speak up, fight back with my full strength and be declared the winner for once. Once would do, if I could just…_

If I could just…

If I could…

If…

If if if if if if… always bloody 'if'. If I could do this, if I could do that, if I could just, if I could… But I can't. And that's the plain truth of it. I'm just weak, just another weakling.

No, I'm not weak. How can I be? I was the only one who stood up to Ginger, the only one who dared, the only one who even motioned towards it. I outwitted him, for once I won, I retrieved the sketchpad from his grasp and…

_God damn it! _Why did everything always lead back to that certain wad of paper? _Why_? Okay, wait, hold up, it's fine, calm down, compose yourself…

And… and… Um, so yeah. From his grasp and went to return it to The Boy and…

_Stop it. You're only working yourself up again, why are you even trying to remember?_ Excuse me? No, I wasn't trying to remember _that_! Dear lord, I was just…

Okay. So maybe I was trying to remember… but… why? Why was I trying to remember? Why was I…?

In realism I paused, my paintbrush poised to press against a spare bit of blanco white against the whirlwind of colour I had sub-consciously created. For a moment I stared unseeingly, my picture just blurred pigments in my wavering vision. I couldn't believe it; I'd thought painting would help me to think, I'd thought it would help me clear a few things up, and instead I was now just incredibly confused as well as still slightly daunted. With a sigh, I dropped my gaze away from the canvas. It would be an understatement to say that yesterday had only affected me a little, also that I wasn't thinking about it too deeply at all. Nah, they weren't understatements. They were just pure lies. Slowly, and seemingly carefully and cautiously, I lowered my painting utensils onto the table I always had beside my easel. Then I quite promptly slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand. Sheesh, Kairi, get a hold of yourself already…

Clearly, to stay at home today with the thought of that sketchpad hanging over me like a shadow, in all its sinister grandeur, would be like a death sentence, or would probably drive me to the point of suicide or even insanity if I was lucky. Knowing my luck, I'd most likely get all three. I needed to think. No, not think – _definitely _not think, just get my head sorted out from this jumbled mess it was in. Look at it. Chaos. Everything's just everywhere. A tip. It needed tidying up. Pronto. Listen to this, will you? Maybe I've already gone crazy. I needed therapy. Or preferably, a good dose of fresh air would do me just fine, thanks.

I huffed, my cheeks puffing out and allowing the air to escape from between my lips at a snails pace. Frustrated beyond belief, I stormed up to my double glass doors that led out onto my balcony, wrenched them open, and continued to storm out onto my balcony itself. It wasn't a gigantic thing – I know, I fainted with shock when I heard – but nonetheless, it was a balcony. It was shaped like a small semi-circle, the setting sun when it's sunk halfway down the horizon. But it was grey-white marble, with the railing in marble too. I crossed my arms and leant them on top of the latter, staring out lazily at what my balcony view had to offer, and breathing in fresh clean air for all it was worth. A lot, in other words. I could smell a hint of freshly baked bread on the late morning breeze, and because it's always been a pleasant smell, I allowed a small lopsided smile to shape my lips as I breathed it in. I closed my eyes as I shivered slightly, the air was frosty today, and it caused goose bumps to form on my flesh. Despite this, I didn't retreat indoors towards the warmth, even as I noted that October was finally beginning to realise it should be getting colder, not warmer.

Most of the view consisted of trees, lots and lots of trees. They were so dense in number; they grew to lean over the wall that surrounded this mansion. Acting like guards as they were planted around the wall, the first obstacle to overcome before you came to the wall, in fact. The leaves turned different hues of brown and orange and yellow, glistening and shining a little as the sun shone upon them.

My room was on the front of the house, and I watched with disinterest as Namine appeared out of the front door and sauntered into the front yard. She was in similar get-up to yesterday, so I didn't even need a second guess to know where she was going. She paused when her shoes touched the sandy pigmented gravel and, and as if on cue – perhaps it was, in a sense, a menacing black car drove round to stop in front of her (I was never good with types of cars). The driver got out and walked around the car, opening the door for her as if she was the freaking queen of England. She acted the part too, lowering herself gracefully and leaving the driver to close the door and hurry back to his seat, starting up the engine smoothly before steering the car around the circular patch of grass centred in front of the front door, where a fountain that gushed crystal clear water was situated. The car purred its way almost silently through the gates and down the short lane necessary because of the ominous trees, turning out and onto the road with hardly a seconds hesitation, whatever car that had been passing would have had to stop incredibly fast, they had to, it was to abide by my father's crazy rules.

I followed it as it glided down the road, turning a corner and disappearing from view like a cat might slink around a corner.

I needed to make a choice, I realised. It was either I stayed here and became increasingly agitated about the pad, inevitably finally succumbing to opening it. You might be thinking; why do I make such a big deal out of this? Well, it's as I said before, really, to me the pad was a part of The Boy who owned it, and I didn't want to invade on his privacy. All of it as aforementioned. Call me silly, call me thoughtful, call me… call me what you want.

To be honest, I couldn't exactly care less.

There's that, and there's also the choice of getting out for once of my own free will, just getting my shoes and coat on and just… going. That was it, nothing else to it, just grabbing a few things and walking right out of that front door. And as well as the knowledge of supposed danger and the insecurities, there was also the thrill of freedom and the overwhelming excitement that was hard to contain.

Hmmm, what shall it be? Frustration and succumbing or freedom and excitement, frustration and succumbing or freedom and excitement…

Even being the anti-social emo that I was, I have to admit it wasn't a particularly hard choice. It seems I'd had the taste for the outdoors, however bad it had been, and now I thirsted for more. Shocking, truthfully, but it was what I felt. Out of my sister's company, I knew the way to Twyport, she'd shown me yesterday and it was still clear in my mind. She'll be in 'The Gardens', so I'll just make sure to avoid that place. If I do run into her? I'll just hightail it out of there as fast as I can. Such a superb plan, right? Psh. Heck no, but I wasn't staying here now, it'll have to do.

Nothing was ever very far away when you lived on an island, it wasn't hard to lose your way and besides, people here preferred to stay within their own community and things were built relatively densely. Although Twyport wasn't a very desirable destination, it was better than here for now. Anything was.

So, before I changed my mind, I quickly gathered my things. Socks. Shoes. Jacket. Coat. Sling a bag over my head and onto my shoulder so that it crossed my body diagonally containing… containing what? I stopped to consider. Did I have money? Not much to hand right now, perhaps, but just a little would be okay. So I transferred what cash I had to a purse and placed that within the depths of the bag. Now what? I could take some equipment so that I'll be able to draw or something, shopping never really held my interest, it would dispel any boredom, anyway. So I seized pencils, rubber, sharpener, colouring pencils, paper, and threw them in too. And now…

I turned my gaze to glare at my underwear draw.

It felt like one of those Wild West stand off things, in which the opponents glare each other down from opposite sides of the small desert town. "There ain't enough grounds fer the two o' us, pal!" Ha. Right. But I directed this thought towards the blasted draw, anyway. It didn't answer, of course, just gazed back at me almost boredly. If draws can gaze, that is. But I have a good imagination, so sue me. The phrase was definitely true, though, because I couldn't stand being in the same place as _it_. I wasn't particularly sure about the pad, however, but that was irrelevant. The sooner I got rid of that thing, found The Boy and handed it back over, then the sooner I'd be happy. I took a hesitant step towards it, thought _to hell with it_, strolled the rest of the way determinedly, jerked the draw open, dug around for the pad, found it, brought it up…

That was where I stopped.

I was clutching it between both my hands, staring down at the plain cover, dull yellow, yellowed with age. Yes, I stared. And I kept on staring, and staring… and still staring. Surprise me, really. My hands began to sweat, I could feel it, and the pad became a little wet. But I disregarded it. _C'mon Kairi, don't be so stupid, it's just a pad, really, that's it. Zilch. The end. Nada. Zip. Just put it in your bag like a good girl and we'll be on our way. C'mon. Move. Now. _

…I couldn't. There was more to this than met the eye. I could just… I felt it. Have you ever had that? You see something, but you don't believe that's all there is to it. Take swans for example, beautiful creatures, right? Yeah, and a single blow from their wing could break your bones. Seriously. I read it somewhere. No… someone told me. Someone, but I can't exactly remember. Like people in general, you have the pretty ones who are horrible and selfish inside, and the ugly ones who are kind and considerate. Like… like The Boy. There was more to him than a broken child who gets picked on by the dominating and menacing thugs. More, so much more. But right then, I had no idea exactly what that something 'more' was. I can't fortune tell, after all. And nobody pales to a deathly white when their pad is being torn, never to the extent _he _did, even if it was a most prized possession.

_God damn it, woman._

There was nothing else for it, now I was curious as well as just longing to.

I opened the pad.

And that's another thing right there that I still regret, another thing that has had me up at night pondering over it, another thing that has made me stop and think, I don't really know what to make of it occasionally, I'm not particularly certain whether I really do regret that simple action, but I do, _sometimes_. And I say sometimes because otherwise, I probably wouldn't have got to know him so well… I probably wouldn't have been so intrigued by him, eager to get to know him.

Probably.

The images were breathtaking. Each one after the other, it seemed impossible that someone could hold such skill in the art of drawing. Endless pictures of buildings and places, beaches and parks, trees and… everything. Even down to things like a single plant, a swing set, a rooftop – it made me think about how observant he must be. Just sat there in a corner, a secluded, shadowed spot, happily drawing away and producing wonders that, unless you took the time to look, would pass you by unknown. There was also a simply bench that must have meant something to him at the time. With an unidentifiable flower resting on it, it was the only thing coloured, and it was coloured orange. I pondered over this for a second, before I slowly turned to the next page.

In my heart, it felt like I was doing treachery, like I was committing a crime, like I was doing something horrendously wrong. But I couldn't stop myself, they were too amazing, like the extravagant picture book to the eager toddler. Mesmerising and… so totally _interesting_. Yeah, my heart was fluttering sickeningly, my stomach churning, my breathing coming out ragged, my sweat dripping from my pores. Yeah, I knew I was doing something that, at heart, I knew was bad, very bad, very _very_ bad. But I still did it, didn't I? We all do it, and nothing stops us once our mind is set.

So just do it.

Quite suddenly, the pictures changed from still life to something more alive; people.

They were, obviously, as incredible as the other pictures. And when I skimmed through it, I realised it was all girls. All of them different. All of them smiling, waving, laughing. My first genuine thought was that he was actually a pervert, but I instantly felt nauseated that I could even entertain the idea. If he was a pervert, anyway, then he would have gone the whole hog and… well, drawn them… differently, if you get my drift. But all these girls were well covered up, all in perfectly original positions, each one unique and individual with their own magic. They all had their own names written down beneath them, plus a date and a somewhat random statement, or the names, dates and statements could possibly mean nothing at all, how would I know?

Yes, all of this captured my attention, but it wasn't the biggest thing that caught my eye. No. It wasn't.

The fact that each and every one had a cross running through them? Yeah, that was kinda it, surprisingly.

It left me, quite literally, gaping and staring like never before. There was nothing wrong with them, no flaws within the work, none at all. So why had he done that? For each and every girl, she always had a gigantic cross, an 'X', big, fat and ugly compared to the masterpiece. Always one covering them, destroying the picture. But why? I flicked rapidly through them, there must be hundreds! Yet they all had those large red crosses angrily marked across them. On some, there were even dents in the page where he pressed too hard, also a few rips. I paused in my skimming, glancing away to try and figure out what it all meant without the current image serving as a distraction, shutting my viewing orbs away to help me concentrate. Weird. Before, I was frantic for a diversion, now I just didn't want to know.

The names, I supposed they could mean _something_, and that something was more than likely going to be the girls' own alias. Plus, unless he had a very _very _wide imagination, I sincerely doubted that he conjured them all up from the depths of mind; so they're real. Except, why was he drawing real life girls? Girls he's seen himself in realism. Did he know them? Did he just think they looked nice, something to draw? No, because then he wouldn't exactly know their names, unless he asked… Hah. Yeah. "Excuse me, miss, but could you please tell me your name so I can label the picture I drew of you?" Oh boy. I'm so sure there's something wrong with this poor excuse for a brain up in here.

Simply put, I don't _think_ so.

Dates, dates for what? I looked back at the page the pad was open on. There's a 'Met:(date)', then there's an 'End:(date)', which basically acted as a '(date) – (date)', if that makes any sense. I'm hoping it does, because otherwise, it's tough. However, this implied that he met them at a time, and then… ended something with them? Ended what? Ended…

_A relationship with them?_

I blinked. Relationship. As in, boyfriend and girlfriend? He'd had all these girlfriends? _They were all ex-girlfriends_? Holy… did he go through them like a bloody child with sweets or something? Did he - ?

_Okay! Wooooooah. Hold on there, girl. First it's pervert, and then it's player?_

And this was one of those painful times you become fearful that your twin slaggy sister is starting to rub off on you.

Ouch.

I shook my head, trying to come up with a more favourable reason for all of this, but… what else could it be, really? I tipped the sketchpad, slowly allowing the paper to fall silently and individually. If that previous thought wasn't correct, then what –

_Holy mother of flippinoly!_

I quickly lifted the flimsy piece of paper that just fell and held it up so that I could see its predecessor, barely registering its blankness, but register it, I did. Somebody I recognised was on the page, just another girl, another one with a big, fat and ugly 'X' over her. Just another one out of a hundred others. One out of many. But, somebody I also knew, it was easy to make her out even beneath the cross. That hair style was unmistakable, and the familiar name was written out neatly in what I'd come to recognise as his italic writing. It was a nice hand writing style, too: curly, distinctive and unique with its own enigmatic content. But that wasn't why I was staring at the letters.

This was why:

_Olette Mitsuki.  
__Met: 16__th__ August 2008.  
__End: 20__th__ October 2008.  
__You lived up to your true colour, thank you._

It was the year two thousand and eight this year.

It was also October.

Ten days after the latest date on this page.

That was nine days yesterday.

Think wide violet eyes. Think open mouth. Think dropping pad. Think running girl with red-wine hair. Think… oh, you guessed?

Yep. That was my reaction, and to say I was… _a little _shocked would sorta be an understatement.

**Wouldn't you agree?**

::**x**.**x**::

I still don't understand why I reacted so **strongly**,  
Perhaps it was the _**surprise**_ that she had a _**connection**_ with you.  
But she was **o**nly One of the M a n y .  
You **knew** her, although in what way?

* * *

**End of Chapter Two (Part I/II).**

I promise you, the next part is way more interesting, and it's heaped with enough dialogue to make you scratch your head and wonder if this chapter and the next are both actually the same day.

**Chap3 Sneak Preview: **

_But that was as far as my normally deep thinking went. For suddenly he jumped slightly, so small it was almost non-existent. And with rapidly blinking eyelids, he turned to look directly at me. The upper half of his body twisted slightly as he did so, his foot dragging round a little to allow him to turn properly._

_I saw blue. Cobalt, huge, bright blue. Circular pools of intensely pigmented water. Light and mesmerising. Individual whirlpools of their own._

_Again._

_It was weird, really, almost like a dream. I'd realised that people were still walking past us, making their individual ways up and down the aisle, but they weren't talking anymore, and I was suddenly aware of the strange, almost ghostly silence to the air – not just to the shop, but to outside as well. For aisle 'A' was beside the door, and before when I'd been able to hear the shoppers walking down the street, before when I'd been able to hear the sparse pigeons that scrounged around for food going 'coo', before when I'd been able to hear skateboards racing past with the wheels audibly rolling along the cobbled roads, all of it was gone. It was like something out of a film, one of those slow-motion episodes played in absolute silence when your skin starts tingling and you just _know_ that something stunning is about to happen._

Oooooooh, so, what do you think is going to happen next? Who is it that she sees? Why is Time going so slow? Where is she? :o  
Damn, it's so obvious; I wish I'd made it differently.  
But look forward to it, and it would be interesting if you suggested what is occurring. :)

**A **s_**toryteller**_** is I, now it ends we say **g_**oodbye**_**.**

**onlylotte.**


	3. Chapter Three: A Shop

**Full Summary:  
**_**His little light and little fire, to mess with her is to burn.  
**__From the moment that Kairi see's the boy, she feels an instant connection to him. And when she talks to him properly; her world comes alive. However, to everyone else, he quickly becomes an object of hatred and jealousy. Kairi naively tries to understand just why people despise and turn the boy down, as well as the meaning behind her motherly protection over him. But Fate is a cruel thing, for by some sick and twisted turn of it, Kairi is torn beyond repair when he suddenly has to leave.  
__Only it is when he goes that she realises that she must do what was right in her heart._

Welp, here's the second part for chapter two. Sometimes I get the feeling I drag things out too much, like conversations…  
Hm…  
Yet, there is some meaning in them, although the seem trivial… I think.  
Meh, I hope. And I hope its not boring either.  
**  
E**njo**y**.

* * *

"_Taking it slowly can be viewed two different ways; resting or small talk; for this situation we recommend the second."_

**A **_Shop of colourful confrontations.  
_**S**_unday.  
_**29****th ****- 30****th ****O**_ctober_.

"**He's quite the catch, huh?"**

_Oh yes, he sure had been. Sure is. A catch all right. A catch that you fell for? Or just a catch that you caught? Helped? Is that why he thanks you in the statement? Why do you say that?_

"You'll realise soon that it's not such a good thing, especially to Them."

_Why? Why not? Did They feel intimidated by his beauty? Did They just hate him for being good-looking? Did They hold a grudge because They didn't catch him when he fell? Or would They have just let him fall? Did he deny Them company, and because he looks so unique its easy to pick him out from the crowd? Well? Well? Why is it not good? Why?_

"He doesn't fight. He just runs, and if he can't, he takes the hit, it's horrible to watch him suffer."

_Of course it is, of course you'd hate to watch him suffer. You knew him didn't you? Why didn't you help him? Were you ashamed? Did They find you out, and drag you away? Did you come willingly? Were you just ashamed They had caught you? Ashamed They caught you, not him, the catch? Why do you leave him to this cruel and twisted Fate? Why? Are you afraid? Scared? Worried that you'll get on Their wrong side? Why doesn't he fight? Why can't he run fast enough? Is he just slow, or is it something else? _

"Kairi?"

_And, yes, you tried to stop me. You called me back, you didn't want me to face Them, stand up for Him. Why? Why did you object? Why didn't you want me to help him? I thought you didn't like to watch him suffer? Or were you just saying that? Did you leave him? Why? Why?_

_Why?  
__How?  
__What?  
__Did you…  
__Were you…  
__Are you…  
_You.

_You knew him Olette.  
_Help him.

This was where a sunny but cold day, at a small café, in a busy shopping centre called Twyport, nursing a mouth watering hot chocolate – and having a ball, I'm sure – brought me. It's also one of those times when you thank quick thinking, bringing out money to buy a hot drink on a chilly day, for example. I couldn't really fathom what just happened, not even why I reacted as such. Surprise? Shock? Anger? I didn't know. I still don't. But the moment I saw her on that page, engraved there with led from a pencil, directed by _his _hand, emotions crashed down rather heavily, suffocating me to the point where it was hard the breath. They knew each other, they had a connection, but what got me most was how she would rather watch helplessly as he suffered instead of stepping in and trying to stop it. If she cared at all, then surely she'd at least make an effort?

It's strange, I barely know them. I barely know any of them. And already I feel a part of them. As if I've known them for much longer. Perhaps it's a product of all my thinking, or maybe it was mutual, did I know them before? Or it could even be something else. It's amazing how many questions can be born from a simple statement, even from just a name, my name. Added to the sight of a simple picture. Yeah, it's pretty amazing.

I didn't want to think anymore, I'd had enough of that for one day. And this one was still young. It was only 13:24PM. I gazed at a distant family of four solemnly; mother, father and son and daughter. Now _they_ were having a ball. Laughing and smiling, jumping and skipping, I envied them. A teenage boy I didn't recognise from 'The Gardens' on a skateboard. A couple of teenage tangerine faces giggled together and eyeing the boy up, wearing next to nothing despite the chill. A dog barking and running, its owner chasing it with its lead in hand, yelling loudly for it to come back in vain. Men constructing on a new store. An old couple walking slowly by. A grandma with her grandchildren, eating goodies from a nearby bakery. Adults all over the place, couples, mates, girlfriends, singles, mothers, fathers. People all over the place. People having fun.

And in the midst of it, I was just one auburn haired girl wrapped up tightly in a coat more for the comfort than the warmth, warily glancing around, sitting on her own at an outside table of a café, and drinking a hot mug of choc. An unhappy face among a crowd of smiles. I could see it now, the raincloud hovering over my head whilst sunshine lit up everyone else. The core of gloom in the brightness. The –

_Oh, Kairi, _some inner part of me sighed, _you're such a pessimist._

_And you're such a nuisance, love, _I retorted sharply, _so bugger off._

But now the light was blinding. There was too much happiness out there, and too much sadness within myself. But has that ever happened to you? You feel out of place, one tiny person that's totally different from the rest of them. As different as the duck to the pigeons, the cat to the lions, the donkey to the horses… you're different, yet still the same. I was still human, after all.

I blew out a lungful of air, watching as my breath came out as a fog, condensed and visible in the chill of the frosty wind. Looking down, I saw the different shades of brown within the chocolate now. I thought about them; sienna brown, burnt umber, sepia, dark brown, raw umber, a hint of black, a dash of light bronze... I wasn't interested for long. So without ceremony, I got to my feet, placed a satisfactory amount of money on the table to pay for the hot chocolate I didn't finished, and walked away to mooch around Twyport and waste away the next few hours or so. Hey, what can I say? I was lost for anything else to do. I also needed a new canvas; I'd run out, so it appeared. Some other bits wouldn't go amiss either, like a new book, I'd read _Lucas_ so many times I'd lost the thought of looking at the things that I enjoyed doing, the prospect of spending the next few hours in Twyport seemed much more appealing, and I actually obtained a new spring in my step.

Three hours and only four purchased items later, I came across the art store. At least, what looked like an art store, but I could have been mistaken. Regardless, I eagerly made my way inside, my bag bumping against my thigh in time with the motion of my running legs, whacking the books I'd obtained from Peddlestons – beats me as to where _that _name came from – rather painfully onto me. I hardly noticed this, however, too keen to go into the shop and start browsing for art supplies. It made me happy to look at those kind of things; paints, brushes, colours, everything. I don't know why, they just did, I guess it comes with being a semi-artist type of person.

Which caused me to think, wasn't he a semi-artist type of person too?

I thought he was, and suddenly being that kind of person wasn't half as bad.

I wasn't smart enough for another brain wave to pass me by, however, so I was surprised to a stand still when I saw something.

Ahem, someone.

Yeah, you probably guess. It was him, of course, The Boy. Yeah, he was there as well. I stopped, pausing in mid stride so that I'm sure that I'd have looked like a ballerina of sorts. One leg poised up in the air behind me. But slowly, I returned my foot to the ground. My arms were dangling uselessly by my sides, my right hand resting slightly on the top of my bag that hung limply on my right hip. That was it, my position, just stood there with my left foot about an inch in front of the other, and a little to the side to ensure a balance that I'd sub-consciously moved myself into. My mouth was ajar with the surprise of seeing him so abrupt and unexpectedly. And all the while I stared, a lot.

Again.

It was like I couldn't help it, I was still marvelling at his appearance. It was rather strange, how I'd become so incredibly attracted to him from only seeing him once, but I suppose there'll be more girls than just me who are like that. Or even boys. You could be one of them. If you are, for you, was it a case of it being extremely difficult to tear your gaze away? Was it a case of never tiring from the sight of them, you could observe them for hours and still not be bored, still seem to find something new that intrigues you for the next hour and a half? Well, perhaps that's a little excessive, because for starters I haven't even been in his company for more than 10 minutes, but still…

He was casually studying the acrylic paints in the section I'd immediately gone to. No, I can do better than that. I can remember his exact position, too. His feet, then adorned in a somewhat tatty looking old pair of black and white chequered vans, were spaced a little apart. But still, socks were completely absent, which had made me wonder whether the shoes were rubbing or anything, it must have been painful if they were. I also temporarily mused over how the shoes didn't exactly go with the overall outfit, which was the same as yesterday. A navy blue fleece hanging loosely off his torso, the kind that went over your head like a jumper; a pull-over, with the collar turned up presumably to keep out the wind for when he was outside, or perhaps it was permanently like that. Three quarter light blue jeans that were quite baggy and looked rolled up at the bottom. But the plain cerulean beanie was something that was also new, pulled down relatively low and causing his slightly unruly spikes to frame his face and hang over his eyes. His back was arched, strained his sight to pick up the paints stored on the top most shelf, his arms bent a little with his fingers splayed. Something I found also happened to me when I did exactly the same thing.

I always came to this aisle first because acrylic paints were something that I used regularly, I liked them for the fact that they didn't run and mix with the other colours as easily as watercolours, unless they were too diluted of course. It was just my luck that I should choose to come when he did, would it have been the same if I'd come five minutes earlier, or later? Would I have missed him if I had? If I hadn't stopped to investigate into the new Manga section in Peddlestons, would I have arrived and left before him?

The Boy sighed almost wistfully, which shocked me in a soft sort of way. Partly for the fact that he sighed, and partly for the fact that I noticed. Maybe I really was staring too much, but I couldn't help myself. His eyes seemed glazed over with a sort of sadness, and a longing, a longing for the paints that were displayed ever so neatly in front of him. I speculated about this faintly; could he not buy them? And for what reason?

But that was as far as my normally deep thinking went. For suddenly he jumped slightly, so small it was almost non-existent. And with rapidly blinking eyelids, he turned to look directly at me. The upper half of his body twisted slightly as he did so, his foot dragging round a little to allow him to turn properly.

I saw blue. Cobalt, huge, bright blue. Circular pools of intensely pigmented water. Light and mesmerising. Individual whirlpools of their own.

Again.

It was weird, really, almost like a dream. I'd realised that people were still walking past us, making their individual ways up and down the aisle, but they weren't talking anymore, and I was suddenly aware of the strange, almost ghostly silence to the air – not just to the shop, but to outside as well. For aisle 'A' was beside the door, and before when I'd been able to hear the shoppers walking down the street, before when I'd been able to hear the sparse pigeons that scrounged around for food going 'coo', before when I'd been able to hear skateboards racing past with the wheels audibly rolling along the cobbled roads, all of it was gone. It was like something out of a film, one of those slow-motion episodes played in absolute silence when your skin starts tingling and you just _know_ that something stunning is about to happen.

And then Time lurched forwards and jumped right into my face, "Hello!" It said. To some extent, it made me conscious of the revived low music emitting softly from the various speakers dotted around the store, and of the random babble of the crowd both inside and out, as well as anything else. The only thing that didn't seem to move was him. And now that I was looking properly, now that I'd seen his face without the hate and anger, I realised it truly was a face that I'd never forget. Not simply because of its undeniable beauty, but more for its wondrous sense of being _beyond_ things. Beyond the bright blue orbs and the messy hair and the sad smile… beyond all this there was something else.

Something…

I still don't really know what it is.

_Wait, what? He was smiling? At _me_?_

:::::::

Back then, I couldn't believe it; I just simply couldn't _understand_ it. He was smiling at me, _smiling_. Yet, I was so sure he had hated me, so sure he'd ignore and refuse to speak to me, so sure that the next time we'd cross paths his features would contort with that anger and hate and shouting would be quick to follow. But it didn't. Sometimes, it makes me realise he truly did know how to overthrow and surprise me. Yeah, the smile was there. A gentle curl of the lips. More of a tiny twitch. Crooked. Lopsided with only the corner closest to me quirked up slightly. A smile. Perhaps not much of one, but a smile all the same. It looked… sad, just like I said before. But it was also… I don't know, I didn't back then, and I still can't work it out to this day. None of the verbs that pass through my mind seem the right way to describe it. I do remember, though, that it was actually apologetic, a sorry gleam in his eyes. I didn't fathom it, the reason he was saying sorry to me, but I didn't dare to question it, for the fear that I would say something wrong. That sparkle in his orbs, it was the main reason I let him convince me silently, without words and without vanity, but with only that simple look, that the emotions he experienced back then were as real as I was in flesh and bone.

Back then I believed him.

And I'm still grateful that I did.

:::::::

"Are you okay there, Miss?"

I was brought back to reality by the sound of his voice. Now that it wasn't dripping negativity, I was able to notice just how nice it really was. It certainly wasn't local. But there wasn't any traces of an accent either, at least, none that I would recognise. It sounded like one used to being soft and quiet, clear and precise, without being clipped. It was a… calm voice. Relaxing and simple. Nothing fancy. Nothing elaborate.

Yeah, I liked that. It surprised me how I was able to assess that much from a few words, too. But you'll find that if you're rewriting something and you take the time to just sit down and _think _about it, especially if you were a deep thinker like me, then it was rather amazing how much you could get out of a handful of simple words.

Startled into blinking. I looked at him again. He was gazing at me now, a look of amusement on his face. His smile stretched ever wider and appearing more genuine than ever.

"It's Kairi, isn't it?" He said softly. No, he _asked, _he asked _me_. He didn't just present the words to the entire area around him. No. He was directing the enquiry to me.

I gulped. Never before had I felt as if I was burdened with so much sudden pressure. My throat was as dry as a scorching hot desert, dry enough to feel tight, like a desert lizard's skin. Every breath was like I was rubbing sand paper against my gullet, rough and prickly.

For a terrible moment I thought I'd lost the ability to speak, any attempts to issue a sound, issue _anything_, almost made me choke and have tears spring to my eyes. All I could do was stand there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot, and wear a gormless expression on my face. God, I thought, how embarrassing is _this_? The moment probably only lasted a second or two, but to me, it felt like a whole lot longer. I'd talked to him before, so now why was my body acting up from a few bloody words? Maybe it was the fact that the mood was incredibly calmer, or it could just be that the general serenity of it all, the… _naivety _of his aura… because that was what it felt like. His gaze was refreshingly open, almost inexperienced in its honesty. Almost _green, _raw even. It was like being watched by a child through a teenage boy's eyes. Youthful at heart, but much older in his physique. Eventually, mercifully, I managed to get some air into my lungs and ignore the persistency of my throat to prevent me from uttering a single word.

"How do you know my name?" I enquired.

It came out all wrong. What I'd meant to say was, 'How do you know my _name_?' in a kind of light hearted, curious manner. But what I actually said was, 'How do _you _know my name?' as if I was accusing him of some horrendous crime.

But he didn't seem to notice. Thank God. At least, i don't think he did, and he didn't say anything about it. So I took that as a good thing.

"Cid told me," He said simply.

But Cid wasn't a familiar name to me.

I mentioned such, and his smile almost disappeared from his face and he sighed a… something, anyway, but a sigh that whispered disappointment to the air and spoke of a distasteful realisation.

"Of course, you wouldn't know him, would you?" He said with a soft laugh. A light and easy chuckle. But I wondered if he was hiding any vibes beneath the light hearted façade, for that certainly wasn't a foreseen kind of way he'd present the question with that disappointment I'd detected within his sigh. Although I didn't mention about it.

Cid, it turned out, was a mechanic who ran a small shop on the outskirts of Twyport in the quieter districts, just the way he liked it. However, he'd always liked to make things himself, apparently, and a good portion of the shop was selling these creations. He was a muscular man with a hard face that more often than not had a toothpick hanging loosely from his lips. Pale blue eyes. Blonde hair. Normally wears a white shirt with a thick stripy sandy coloured belt thing – or at least that was how The Boy described it – around his waist, on which he likes to place the palm of his hands in the act of hands-on-the-hips, but not with an aura of arrogance. Or so I was told. His pants, like The Boy, were three quarter. But they were yellow instead. Beige walking boots, said The Boy, seemed a common garment with most mechanics. He knew because he'd been touching up the paint of Cid's latest creation there whilst the said mechanics had come to 'see how he was doing in the shop'.

"Although it was more like a couple of drinks between old friends and a heck load of fooling around," The Boy grinned somewhat sheepishly and secretively to himself, his eyes gazing away into what I assumed was a memory, "They even persuaded me into trying some of their beer."

Where was all of this coming from, anyway? I suddenly wondered, all this friendliness… did it mean he'd forgotten about last time? Or did he just not recognise me? I didn't know, but either way, I was rather glad of it. I know it sounds cowardly and weak, but in realism I was weak, really, so at the time it seemed acceptable to be thankful of his easiness, and whatever reason there was behind it, I was perfectly okay and content with it.

Hopefully, this time we would start off on the right foot instead.

So, I saw it as my opportunity to throw in a smile. Keep it friendly and sweet, small and simple. "Did you like it?"

For a moment he stared at me almost blankly, his eyes a little glazed, before he abruptly shock his head and allowed his face to twist into the respective mood that his next words suggested, "Not particularly. Alcohol never really liked me."

I frowned slightly, confused. "Meaning?"

He bowed his head slightly. Naturally, I wondered why. But not just in that curious manner, more in the sense of having some slice of concern for him. Was it shame, maybe? Guilt? Embarrassment? I couldn't tell. He was hiding his brilliant eyes again, obscuring his soul.

"My stomach doesn't tend to accept it," He muttered.

He sure had a funny way of saying things. Not funny 'ha ha', but more funny as in just plain weird.

"It makes you sick?" I asked in a voice that dripped surprise, my mouth stayed open, as if to back up the said vibe. But there was amusement there too. He seemed almost sheepish again when he met my gaze the next time, although there was a hint of hilarity and a flicker of a smile, directed solely to me. Such attention from the opposite sex had never failed to baffle me. Sure, the boys had flirted, but they had never really actually just sat down and _talked _to me, tried to get to know me, not like this. Even if we weren't exactly sat down, The Boy still talked to me like I was the same as him, an _equal_. Not like I was some girl he had an eye for. I liked that, as well as appreciating it. Perhaps it was one of the things that made him so distinctive to me.

"Lack of regular drinking," He stated through a newly presented crooked smile. He raised a hand to rest it on the back of his head, in a gesture which I couldn't comprehend either.

"Oh…" I murmured. My eyes remained wide. After all, didn't your average seventeen year old drink anyway, regardless of laws and rules? Although, I couldn't count myself as one of them. Alcohol didn't just disagree with me, moreover, the taste had never really appealed to me as an enjoyable beverage either.

Was he even seventeen? I couldn't really tell. The way he looked at me, he could have been a ten year old child seeking the assurance that he wasn't in trouble, in the belief that he had done something incredibly wrong. And the way he had covered himself up, he could have been a scrawny little thing for all I really knew. What was he? Eyes of a child, sure, but that face… it was a face that had been through too much. Not the eyes, although there was a hint of wisdom about them, eyes that were young but had seen things that not even somebody double his age should have had to experience. But the tensed muscles in his face, with the lips, it showed me that he was rigid and alert, wary even. I knew he was tense; his skin looked too tight against his bones. What was he? Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…. Twenty? Sixteen, perhaps? I took a second to wonder.

And I took another second to wonder if it truly mattered.

I decided it didn't.

"How come Cid told you about me, anyway?"

"We both saw you walk past," He pointed in front of himself, consequently at me, whilst mimicking the next words from some near past, ""See tha' gal?" He'd said, gesturing as such –" The Boy waved his arm a little to indicate which gesture he spoke of. ""Tha's Kairi Memoiri, daugh'er of ther pres'dent 'imself.""

I had to give it to him; he could do a really good verbal impression, in fact, he could do a lot of good things, even when I came to think of it back then. But he seemed to get what I assumed was Cid's accent to a tee, no sweat, no problem. It was astonishing, really.

"Ah, I see." It explained the emotion in the sigh and the way he said it, the whole 'you wouldn't know him, would you?' thing. Cid was an average citizen, normal and working hard to earn a suitable living, to pay for his bills and his food and to provide himself with the necessaries for life and fun. And me? It wasn't hard for you to tell I was a rich kid, and the fact that everybody knew who I was, it was easy to understand the vibes that had been behind that sigh and his words. I couldn't describe it, but I knew what it was, and I understood.

For once, I understood something. Go me.

"I hope you don't mind," He actually seemed worried that he'd said something wrong then, however slightly, as if he was rethinking talking to 'the president's daughter'. He was probably wondering if I was going to run to my daddy because he'd known my name and spoken to me as an _equal_, not a superior. And that my daddy would most likely set the police on him or something for committing such a horrendous crime.

"Not at all…" I assured him quickly; afraid he'd start getting even worse ideas about me.

"Well, I'm sorry anyway."

_Why are you apologising?_

"It's fine, really," I rephrased firmly and almost with a finalising tone of voice. It's okay, that's it, full stop, nada, zilch, I will not set the police on you…

"Well, if you're sure… then I'm sorry about this, I was kinda hogging these back then." He stepped backwards, going left in my line of vision. "Here."

For a moment I blinked at him rather stupidly, then I looked at what he's just paced away from. Lifting his arms out a bit as if to say 'there you are.' I looked at the shelf in question, and blinked again. But this time in mild surprise.

I'd forgotten about the acrylic paints.

I sauntered over, consequently turning my back to him as I proceeded to grab a random bottle of paint and hold it so that my eyes could examine it at a closer perspective. "Can you not find it then?" I asked him calmly and in a bit of a faraway voice, if I do say so myself. A light hearted curiosity. It made me proud at how I pulled it off so easily, because inside I was a whole lot more inquisitive than I let on.

"I'm sorry?" The Boy said almost as soon as I'd finished asking the question. For a dumb second, I thought he was apologising again, and I almost turned to sharply set his state of mind in the right one. But then I realised he hadn't caught what words I'd thrown into the air, and was merely letting on that I repeated my enquiry. I practically bit my tongue to stop the first idea that jumped to mind from rolling off the latter appendage and breezing from between my lips.

"The one that you wanted? You were stood there for quite a while."

For a moment he still looked rather lost, and then something seemed to click.

"And you were staring long enough to notice?" Renewed amusement was splayed across his features. I opened my mouth to retort, but found I could not. He had, quite honestly, caught me out. He also had an _extremely_ good point. I took a mental note to remember that comeback for any future references that may require it.

I found myself stammering again, "I… well – you see –" _Why couldn't I just say 'no' and have done with it?_

"So you _were_?"

_Crap. I am screwed. _"Which one is it you're looking for?" I asked in the most impassive voice I could manage, truly it was not much of one, but I tried. And I was more desperate than you could imagine to change the subject, because that one was treading in _very_ deep water, possibly deep as in stranded-in-the-middle-of–the-ocean deep. Or at least, that was how it felt. How it felt… no, it wasn't how I _felt_. You can't feel as if you're in deep fluid, how can you? Deep – deep because of its mysterious and seemingly bottomless depths… you didn't know what was down there until you dared to investigate with an oxygen tank. Or maybe without the tank, if you wanted to die, whatever. No, the vibe was more like an explosion of butterflies – or perhaps flies or moths or something, you can never really tell, and the butterflies get too much to do, they should give the job to moths or something sometimes – in my stomach, and my stomach was doing acrobatics like the most flexible gymnast in the world. Flip style. My mouth felt dry again, and fear was shooting daggers at my heart, near physically.

Yeah, that's what it felt like. Like being caught red handed. So all in all, my voice was as much of a deadpan as I was the most outgoing girl in town. I nearly dropped the bottle of saffron yellow I had in my hand.

"Changing the subject, I see?" He said, as if to just take the words I had thought and rub them into my face, hard. Really _really _hard. He might not have intended it to be that way, but because I didn't know him at the time, I was rather clueless as to what he'd hoped to receive from that statement. It can't be a question when it was pure fact, could it? I would have hoped it was, but to do that is to practically get on my hands and knees and beg. So I didn't.

"Orange… Pumpkin."

I was shocked by that, mainly for the fact that 'pumpkin' seemed to strike something within me, but I was also startled by the fact – yes, _fact _– that he hadn't persisted on the issue of me staring at him. It would have bothered me, so didn't it bother him? Maybe. Or he could have just taken mercy and let it slide. Either way, I was just glad and far beyond relieved that he'd allowed it to drop.

"Pumpkin?" I was curious as to why it had triggered something that was just outside my reach of understanding.

"Yeah, its Halloween tomorrow, didn't you know?" He too seemed mildly astounded, and I was taking it as a hundred percent because I had forgotten about Halloween. It seemed, now that I came to think about it, that I had forgotten since…

Well, since the day I had first met him.

For me, Halloween wasn't an entirely momentous occasion. I was just more bored than ever locked up in my room without anyone to speak to except for my family, who I didn't _want _to speak to. And no one came knocking on for sweets for pretty obvious reasons – but whether they'd actually _want _to or not was another thing completely. I never bothered to go out because I didn't want to go with Namine and I didn't really have anyone else to go _with_… my school friends didn't tend to ask me for the fear that my father wouldn't approve, because when he doesn't, he can be a very intimidating man. I ignored Halloween. Although, a new emotion was set off from the mere mention of it this time, an emotion like… excitement?

It couldn't be. So I disregarded it. It was meaningless. When did I ever have fun on Halloween? Never, that was when.

_Forget it._

"I… well, I guess I forgot," I mumbled, showing some slight discomfort that I didn't feel by shuffling my feet from side to side. I wasn't feeling embarrassment or anything, however, for why should I feel distress at having forgotten a certain holiday that I disliked and didn't celebrate? I shouldn't, and didn't, but the way The Boy had said what he did, 'didn't you know?' I'll admit… I'd felt a slice of shame and unease… and it was all but gone now.

_Forget it._

So I did.

"What would you have planned to do with it?" I said to keep the conversation flowing, preferably away from Halloween.

"Paint?" He made it sound like a question with the uncertainty in his voice, but it made me realise just how foolish the question had been to start with.

"Sorry, dumb question." I muttered with a quaky laugh, now _that _was when I felt embarrassment. Stupidity through discomfort – however small – has always been a flaw of mine. I don't like it at all, but it was just me, and considering he warmed up to the _true _me, the one with these flaws and silly enquiries, I guess I can't be too bad.

I went to place the saffron yellow back on its shelf, and saw a bottle of, lo and behold, pumpkin orange near the back, visible because of the absence of the saffron yellow in its place. After a brief pause in which I double checked I saw what I thought I did, I reached over and grabbed it, before turning around and handing it to him. I didn't give him much chance to protest, and it snapped him out of some reverie he'd been in when I almost threw it at him. From quick reflexes that actually had me wondering if they were entirely human, he caught the bottle. Giving it a curious and slightly confused look which creased his brow, he stepped forward and actually put it _back_.

He took a pace backwards, either to give me my own personal space back or to just get away from me, it worked to the same affect in putting space between us again. I sincerely hoped it was the former, and I hated myself for it, because it was his choice if he disliked me after all, although I couldn't help but be wistful… but in that moment of closeness, I caught a whiff of his scent. And it was a rather pleasant smell, like… I don't know. I can't describe what it was like. But I know I liked it, liked it enough to want to smell it again in fact. Like… something. Something nice and almost calming. Yeah, I liked that.

I gave him a puzzled look from his motives.

"Aren't you going to buy it then?" I thought to ask, feeling it was sensible to do so.

"Um… no," Was his incredible reply. But it wasn't said in a way which expressed that he thought it was a silly question, he wasn't giving me a weird look or anything. No, all he was doing was saying 'um' like all humans did when they were thinking something over, and then giving me his answer.

"Um… explain?" It was okay to be nosy if they'd given you a reason to think they'd do the complete opposite, right?

"I didn't need acrylics."

Wrong, or so it appeared, because now I was _really _confused which made me, as a consequent, _really _inquisitive. Didn't he just say he wanted the pumpkin orange, after all? Strange strange boy…

Or perhaps I was just a blind blind girl.

"But you just said…"

"Ah, but it doesn't necessarily mean I wanted to _buy _it, does it?" He asked like the apparent smarty pants he was. He even threw in a mocking pointing finger which he moved as if to tab the end of my nose gently with his fingertip in a playful gesture. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat from having overthrew me, he knew he had, I could tell by the gleam in his cobalt eyes.

Nope. He was a strange strange boy alright; I wasn't following this one bit.

Would it be okay if I asked if you are?

"You're confusing." I accused with a small pout, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I didn't like it when I can't fathom just what somebody is talking about, and for some reason he made it all the more worse. I was dying to understand him, although I couldn't work out why _that _was too. He shrugged dismissively, brushing past me to go and examine the frottage boards lined up neatly beside the acrylics. As he walked past, I caught his scent again, and actually found myself breathing it in eagerly. I know it sounds silly, also plus the fact that I grinned like an idiot when I smelled it, but it truly was a fantastic aroma. Enough said.

"So…" I tried again to at least get a normal conversation going, "what did you come in here for?" I thought that sounded like a sensible enough question, too.

Apparently not, he stopped examining the board that displayed a swirly wallpaper design to look at me with an expression that rivalled my previous thoughts.

"I like art." He stated simply, going back to observe the frottage.

"No. I meant," I paused to let myself laugh, his answer seemed so logical that I couldn't grasp how I hadn't seen it coming, "I meant 'what were you planning to buy when you came in?'"

"Oh. That," With a small sigh, he placed the board back in its place and turned to regard me again. The expression in his eyes was strange; like a bit of bitterness, hilarity and a hint of melancholy. A weird combination to me, but to others it could be completely reasonable. I wouldn't know. "Sold out." He said, unsmiling for once. I didn't like that, the unhappiness, but how can you cheer somebody up when their vibe is because a certain item they desired wasn't in stock? You couldn't exactly say, 'Oh, they'll have some in tomorrow' or something, because you didn't actually know that, at least, I didn't.

Simply, I didn't know, I'd never really interacted with people all that much, so all I felt I could really do was keep the conversation going, "Ah. What was it?"

"Oil pastels."

"Oh. Okay," That wasn't entirely very good news to me either, I needed some of those too; "Did you place an order then?" I asked.

"Uh…" For a moment there he kind of froze, before he eased up and released a light chuckle, "Actually – no."

"But if –" I began, slightly confused, but before I could even get a chance to say anything else, he interrupted me.

"I haven't got around to it," He announced tersely, putting the unfortunate board he had been holding back in its proper station with more force than was completely necessary. The motion startled me, and I can remember that it had made me jump more than just a little. I stared at him with wide violet eyes as he looked back up at me with a small and almost apologetic smile; his hand still grasped the frottage board.

"Sorry about that," He murmured softly, glancing away slightly to my right; back at the shelves beside us.

"I see," Was all I could say, replying to his previous but one statement. I was still a little apprehensive from the sudden slamming that had just transpired, after all, I was sure anyone would be. I hadn't realised the latter exchange had been annoying him or anything; otherwise I would have shut up sooner. It reminded me of last time; a misunderstanding, that was what it had been. He'd probably thought I was going to say something relatively more prying than I actually was. All I'd wanted to inform him of was the fact that placing an order would get the oil pastels into his possession quicker than if he didn't. He looked at me again and saw my uneasiness, as a consequent, he was suddenly the one making the effort to talk and lighten the mood, a nervous aura about him.

"Say. What's your favourite colour?" He asked me, both hands now behind his head. It would be a position I'd come to associate with him, something he did a lot, but of course, I hadn't known that then. The gesture, I'd realise, could really mean anything. Anxiety, anger, misery, carelessness, serenity, happiness… there were many things he could be feeling when he resting the palms of his hands on the back of his slightly spiky head.

I looked at him, I looked at his eyes. I knew what I would say before I'd even thought about it.

"Sky blue…" I started quietly, thinking of the pigment upon his irises, of course. Then I cursed myself and added hurriedly before barely a second had passed, "Purple." Now _that_ was my favourite colour, well, it had been, anyway. I just prayed he hadn't heard the first part.

_Had_ been? Since when had my most loved colour changed? I mentally grimaced at the whole cliché-ness of it all.

Ha. Dumb question.

"Sky blue purple?" He mused with hilarity in his voice.

"Yeah. Sky blue purple. New colour," I grinned stupidly at him to hide my embarrassment, hoping the covered up vibe would pass unnoticed. He snorted for real this time, trying to contain his laughter.

"Hm..." It seemed he was mulling it over, finger on his chin in the act of pondering whilst his eyes wondered above him. His other hand on his hip. I swatted at him playfully and he leaped away from my poor attempt at the latter, chortling shamelessly again.

"What's… your favourite?" I enquired loud enough to be heard over his hilarity, smirking at his obvious mirth.

His laughing ceased and he pretended to be wiping tears from his eyes as he returned my smile, "… Brown."

"_Brown_?"

"Yeah. Brown," His expression suddenly turned rather serious, "I feel sorry for it, 'cause nobody else likes it, and it's… yet its on our most favourite things – chocolate, for example."

I considered it, but it didn't exactly seem enough a reason to adore the actual _colour_, wouldn't you agree? Sure, anyone who was normal and sane loved things like chocolate, but you had to reflect that brown was also the colour of things like… what you excrete. I frowned at the weirdness of it all, chocolate and _that_? 'Yet it's on our most favourite things…' abruptly I had an amazingly irresistible urge to just laugh at him for his choice of words. I refrained myself.

"Well, I 'spose…" I said slowly, to try and stay on his good side more than anything, "but isn't it kind of…"

"Dull and boring?" He supplied offhandedly.

"Well… yeah," I didn't know what else to say.

"There's more to things than meets the eye, miss, remember that," He informed me rather sourly and quietly. His gaze was locked with my own again, and the gravity and significance of the look in those cobalt orbs made me not dare to contradict him. He looked so… so _serious_ about what he said. It was that gleam in his eyes, they actually challenged me to oppose his words, although my thoughts were far from doing anything of the sort. His lips were a thin line, paled with the tightness of them. His expression was hard, but not in a nasty kind of way, but more in a way that begged me to agree with him, to not deny.

Yeah, there were those emotions of resolve about him, but I could also sense a hint of terror, a vibe that didn't what to contemplate what it would mean if I were to refute him. His eyes were wider than the average person that was trying to convey the message he was, I could also see a slight tremble in his lips. He looked… frightened. Vulnerable.

I couldn't have that, not again.

I also wondered what more there could be to brown than what you saw. Because that was just it, right? There wasn't anything _beneath_ a mere pigment. It was brown. That was it, that was all. But something told me that what he'd just said… it had nothing to do with colours at all. No, it came from something else entirely, something… something that caused him pain, something he was afraid of. Afraid of _me_ doing, perhaps? Was that why he was trying to seem intimidating? Was that why…?

I refused to think any more on the matter, but I suddenly felt I couldn't stand the thought that he should even entertain the idea of me causing him deliberate pain; did he still really think I was out to hurt him? It wasn't possible to contain the words I said next, they just rolled off my tongue without my consent. I spoke them softly and gently, like an adult, or a superior, might soothe a child or an inferior than they held some respect for. Which felt weird, really, because to me he seemed so much more enhanced and even _older_ and… stuff. He'd experienced so much more, it just didn't feel right. But I said what I did, and nothing can change that.

"I won't hurt you."

He eyes became wider all at once. He'd been gripping the rail that kept the frottage boards in place, and now his grip turned much tighter. He scowled at me, but all he looked like to me was… was an injured child, a mentally injured child. He looked insulted, but for some reason, I didn't regret my words at all. He jerked his head, turning it away from me, just like last time. Hiding his eyes and his soul from my own eyes, shielding himself in a much more profound way than mere limbs can shield a body from physical harm. To be hurt mentally ran so much deeper than visible scars.

He took a deep breath. "I don't know what you're talking about," He said in a rush as the air escaped quickly and left him not a great deal of time to speak, but I sensed his voice cracking at least once.

I had an abrupt and unexpected longing to reach out to him, to touch him and to soothe him, but in a way that I had not truly expected. I wanted to wrap my arms around his frame and just… just tell him that things were okay, that it was fine to cry. But it wasn't an impulse drove by anything you might first think, it was more like a mother lioness to her cubs, a mother duck to her ducklings, a… just a mother in general. I felt like his mother. I wanted to solace him but in the way a woman might feel a longing to do so to her offspring. Now that was one strange experience, plus the fact that I hardly knew him, it would probably freak him out if I were to just embrace him right now. I restrained myself more for his sake than for mine, but the compulsion didn't disperse. Moreover, it only grew. Which was more confusing and annoying than you may realise.

Asides from all of that, after a brief silence in which he clung to the rail like a lifeline and I merely stood there staring at him again like a moron, I finally broke the stillness with my voice.

"And please do _not _call me 'miss'." I'll admit, it was more like an afterthought, but I only wished to break this heavy quiet in which he pointedly felt uncomfortable. He looked up at me; his features showed me astonishment at my sudden change of subject. He looked away again, but I saw the small smile that curled the corner of his lips upwards. I smiled in jubilation at my success.

"Oh. Sorry, please excuse me. I thought it was polite," He whispered, almost too quietly for me to hear. But hear I did, and it made me happy to know that he felt comfortable enough to make jokes, however small they were.

"It is," I murmured in return, not entirely sure why I was speaking so quietly, but I felt as if there was a sort of renewed calmness in the air which I didn't want to break.

"Then why don't you like being called it?" Still looking away.

"Because… because I don't," Still looking at him.

"Well, that just explains everything…" He glanced over, the small smile had remained but then it faded slightly as he frowned a little again, "Miss…?"

For a second, I was stupid enough to assume he was attempting to irritate me by repeated that word. The truth was, it simply reminded me of my status in this place, and I didn't like it at all, but I didn't want to tell him that, it would lead to questions and the whole thing was just one complicated and long story. But then I realised he was prompting me for my name, which he must have forgotten, for whatever reason. I told him again anyway.

"You said yourself, its Kairi." Then I thought to add, "_Just _Kairi." Then, "You?"

I thought it was okay to want to know his name, I thought I would only be courtesy to return the favour in informing the other of that vital piece of personal information. But all of this The Boy seemed to be oblivious of, and he only grinned as he replied mysteriously, "One day, Kairi, something could happen and you might know."

Then, again, without another word or even a proper goodbye, he turned and walked away up the aisle in the direction to the back of the shop. His words didn't even annoy me, as I knew they should, but I supposed he must have his reasons for not having told me there and then. So I didn't think anything else of it.

I could have just left things there, I could have just spun around myself and left the art store, I didn't have to have anything else to do with him other than the fact that we both shared a likeness for art related activities. But I, being me, had a tendency to want to know the people I could talk to. So I called out after him as he strolled up the shop and away from me. But just before I did I took a small second to notice the way he walked, and even the memory of that walk brings a smile to my lips even now. It's something that's hard to describe, but it reminded me of that sweet midnight tune. Something that wasn't too fast to miss anything, but not too slow to prolong an approach either. It was bouncy, resolute, and alert. A saunter that was without concern and without vanity, it was something that both belonged to and was remote from everything around it. It was…

It was the walk of The Boy. And I guess that was all that really needed to be said.

But yeah, I called out to him, and he heard me and turned around.

"What are you doing for Halloween tomorrow?" I found myself asking, surprising even yours truly. It took him a moment, but he shrugged lightly with a twitch of the lips.

"I don't really know, I guess I'll just go for a walk around town and have a look at the different costumes like I normally do…" He stopped talking suddenly.

"You don't trick-or-treat?" I enquired, then before he could answer I added almost as an afterthought, "Me neither…"

Somehow he heard me and was rapidly grinning in my direction, "So then why don't you come and have a look at the other children's costumes with me?" Then, so quietly I almost didn't hear, but I did, only just, "It would be nice to have some company for a change…"

"Sure," I shrugged, and although I wondered over why he didn't have any company, I decided not to mention it; it could be a painful subject depending on the answer he could give me, and I wasn't entirely sure whether I was supposed to have heard that. "Where and when?"

:::::::

I couldn't even believe myself. Had I actually been in the process of planning to meet up with somebody besides my own family? But I had, and I see that now. Except at the time, it seemed like a perfectly okay thing to do. No, it was more than okay, it was wonderful. I wasn't feeling nervous or embarrassment; I wasn't feeling regret even afterwards when I got home and thought it over to myself. No, as I stood there and received where I should meet The Boy and at what time, I don't think I'd ever felt more calm in my entire life. Even painting doesn't beat this.

Was this has it felt then? I wondered, whenever Namine went out to see her friends and hang out with them, was this the feeling that went shooting through her, warming her up in the process in a pleasant feeling of serenity, was this what it was like? Because if it was, then I truly had been missing out on things, and I really did need to thank Namine for what she did yesterday. When before I had hated her, now, I don't think I've loved her more. It was like I _should_ go out and spend some time with this boy, get to know him and understand him better. And even though I knew it was stupid to go out after dark to somewhere you'd never heard of, to see somebody you hardly even knew, at the time, I couldn't have felt more excited. He intrigued me, and I wanted to know him better than I already did. I knew it was so unbelievably stupid, god, it really was just asking for trouble, especially when I wasn't planning on telling my parents where I was going or even that I was going out. I can see that now.

Yes, it was a foolish thing to do. But we all have to be fools every so often, don't we? It was as Namine said; you _need _to live a social life to actually _live_.

I think that now I may just be able to understand my sibling better.

:::::::

**As I stumbled out into the sunlight with a big grin plastered across my face and the urge to punch the air with joy, I looked at everyone laughing around me, and suddenly I felt a part of it all.**

::**x**.**x**::

I guess you are the reason that I felt so **excited** about Halloween,  
But it was _**strange**_ that I experienced the emotion _**before**_ I knew what was coming,  
I was eager to **k**now y o u .  
Were you eager to know me, or was I just **One** of the Many?

::**x**.**x**::

**Dinner that evening was the same as last night; Namine was glaring, Mother was pestering, I was silent, Father was eventually shouting and I ended up running from the **room. Except this time I wasn't crying. No, this time I was just angry and couldn't take any more of any of it. Mother had always said that to leave the table after eating without permission was bad manners, but she'd just have to get over it. Personally, right then I couldn't care less about courtesy. Yesterday I thought I'd liked Father better than Mother, except now I didn't know what was worse; the pestering, or the shouting.

That night I couldn't sleep again. It was Monday tomorrow, except there wasn't going to be any school, we were on holiday for the week due to Halloween, after all. But more importantly, tomorrow I would definitely be seeing _him _again, and I was ecstatic beyond belief. Also, for once, I'd actually be enjoying Halloween. I'd be doing something besides what I usually did whilst in this very room I slept in. It was a little strange, considering that morning I'd been almost determined to have a normal day in which I'd painted, read, wrote, drew, etc etc… now I was bouncing on the balls of my feet in anticipation to get out of the house again. That morning, I thought as I sat there on my bed in my nighty with my knees drawn to my chest and my arms around my legs, couldn't have felt like it had happened longer ago.

The first thing I'd done when I'd re-entered my room after speaking to The Boy – why didn't I know his name, again? I forgot… - was see his sketchpad lay there on my royal purple carpet, still open on the page which showed Olette Mitsuki. But before anything, I'd suddenly realised that although the said brunette had been on my mind since I'd seen that picture, as soon as I lay eyes on The Boy, all thoughts of her had simply flown away… like a bird. Popping out of my brain and taking to the air, unnoticed and silent. But seeing the pad brought it all back, and the bird returned to its nest. I reeled from the impact and actually stumbled out of my doorway the way I had come.

I wonder…

Once I'd recovered my composure, I'd stared at it, and found myself wondering all over again, the usual. I'd found myself pondering on the kind of relationship they would have shared. Re-reading the statement he'd written, I'd quite honestly not known what to make of it.

You lived up to your true colour, thank you.

She'd lived up to her true colour? What did he mean by that? Her true colour… what it red? Blue? Yellow? Or even green? Colours could represent anything. Red for short tempered, blue for depressed, yellow for mellow, green for inexperienced… but then again, I don't exactly think he would be thanking her for any of these. Except for the mellow bit… but I hadn't really associated Olette with yellow in the sparse time I had seen and talked to her, in fact, she'd overacted quite a bit when The Boy had sauntered onto the scene. But then again, she _had _known him and seemed to know what would occur from his presence… also, yellow could even mean sickly and sallow, but I guess that doesn't mean anything really. Did it even relate to colours at all? Like before when from his statement after I'd pointed out that brown was 'dull and boring' I'd known, known that his reaction had nothing to do with pigments at all.

I wonder…

End: 20th October 2008. (**A/N**: Think Blackadder ITC for his writing, that's the one I use.)

Nine days before I'd arrived at 'The Gardens' and got caught up in this mess. What would have happened if I _had _gone there nine days previously? Would I have seen them there together? Would I have witnessed the breakup or whatever had happened? Would I…?

Yes, that was right. Would I this, would I that. What was the point in even speculating? I went to 'The Gardens' on the twenty ninth of October, not the twentieth, nothing that I could say or do would change that. The past has already happened, it is unchangeable, so you just don't think about it, perhaps even attempt to accept it, and move on with your life, plan out the future the way you want it to be, and forget about what has already transpired.

Or at least you do your best and try.

I wonder…

I paused, and then I laughed at myself, feeling incredibly sheepish.

I wonder too much.

Indeed, reminiscing about that sketchpad was painful for my head in the late hours of night. All I'd done was allow my ponderings to go around in meaningless circles and waste my time, not that there was anything else to do with it really, not now. I'd thrown the sketchpad in my bag, ready to be returned to The Boy tomorrow night. Hopefully it would be the last time I saw the blasted thing.

Sitting on my massive bed on the eve of Halloween (Yes, I actually remembered this time), I can also remember thinking back to the painting I had created that morning when I'd been trying to distract myself from opening the pad. Much good that had done too, I thought bitterly, all I'd done was waste a canvas pointlessly considering I'd succumbed anyway. But the painting hadn't been what I'd first thought it'd been. As I'd actually stopped to examine it, I'd noticed how the only colours I had actually used was violet and blue, and any other colours I'd thought I'd seen had actually been the lights spectrum shining on my work. Something the light from the twilight sun had shown me without deceit. The colours were blended into each other whenever necessary, but they were the only pigments that shaded the picture's story and given it life. It wasn't a very good painting either. My paintings were never really good, I excelled most in writing. But the solemn colours and awfulness of it made it look depressing, but more than that, it made me sad as well. And cold, I'd suddenly been oh so cold. So I'd just torn the thing from the easel and chucked it into the bin, it surprised me when I got it in on the first try, but I'd been quick to disregard and forget about it.

It also made me wonder though, because I just couldn't help myself, wonder why they had been the only colours on the canvas.

Aside from all of this; the thinking and the excitement, there was also one more reason why I was still up at 11:34pm and refusing to take another walk to calm myself and empty my mind. Exempting the fact that it was pouring it down outside, I still didn't feel in the mood for walking. It was a simple thing, but a simple thing which could yet hold so much meaning and change something entirely.

I needed to thank Namine.

I really had no idea why it was bothering me so much, or why I had that desperate urge to do it too. Perhaps it was the guilt of having hated her for dragging me to 'The Gardens' in the first place, I'd despised her for it, but there was actually something, maybe even two somethings, good that could come out of it after all…

And why should I turn R.G.Y. away? I should give them a better chance to show their 'true colours' as _he'd_ have it, to apologise doesn't need a ceremony or anything, just go up to them, say it and have done with it. Why had I thought they should dislike me again? Oh yeah… I remember now, and to even me now it sounds rather silly and childish. Would it truly bother me if someone I'd just met bolted without a word? I think I panicked, both with my assumption and the actual event – as well as the reason I portrayed to you - I wasn't used to attention, I wasn't used to… people. A lot more people than I was used to, all looking at me and noticing me. Looking at me, not through me; as I was accustomed. Being surrounded made me freak, and certainly being the centre of awareness was daunting, even if the attention was just for a small moment. So tiny compared to what They were most likely used to.

I looked at the clock. 11:39pm. Surely Namine would be asleep by now? Was it worth knocking, just to check, and speak to her now whilst I had my best arguments in my mind? Arguments… arguments for what, exactly? Of course we fought a lot, we were siblings, and it was just how you are with your brother and sisters. As well as the additional fact I'm sure I've mentioned countless times. But to anticipate a row when all I wanted to do was thank her for taking me to 'The Gardens'… it actually troubled me. It seemed I was always going to expect her to blow at me or boss me around in one way or another.

11:42pm.

Well, I thought, as I slipped off my bed and tip-toed towards my door, it was now or never, to chicken out now would be to risk the whole idea from ever happening. I'll admit it was quite scary to predict her reaction to my visit, Namine will always be intimidating to me, even when all I was planning to do was say 'Thank you, goodnight.' Sheesh, I wasn't kidding anyone at all, not even myself, there was no way that she would just allow me to pop my head around the corner, say those vital words, and promptly take me leave with my hands over my head. She might even think I was crazy and wonder just what the hell I was talking about. So of course, I'd have to explain myself.

Heck, she probably already thought I was crazy anyway, so what was there to really lose?

Pride and honour?

Maybe.

I opened the door to my room a crack, and seeing that no one was about, quietly slipped out onto the corridor as I listened carefully to the sounds of night, listening out more for unanticipated footsteps really but it seemed you couldn't just shut out all other sound. The not-quite-so-gentle patter of the rain that had took it upon itself to appear around the time that I'd arrived home, thankfully, and was now splattering itself against my window and double glass doors like a vicious splash of angry paint, again and again and again. Then there was the slight creak of the house, groaning under the burden of the heavy wind that was breathing its way by, pushing the walls of the mansion so that it disturbed the structure. I worried temporarily about the possibility of an on-coming storm, and kept on worrying as I silently made my way through the house in the respective way of Namine's room.

I'd never really liked storms. No. I hated storms. I couldn't, just couldn't stand them. Tolerate them. They were just so…_ frightening_. And noisy. Very very noisy… for every roar of thunder, every rumble and clap, I'd cower under my sheets or just close my eyes tight if it came down to nothing else, if it was too loud, I'd actually cry out. My ears felt so sensitive when exposed to that kind of sound, and it always went right through me. And whenever I saw lightning, I'd nearly jump out of my skin, even if I'd been expecting it, and start to worry over whether it had struck something or not, whether it was something I knew or perhaps just something… something, anything. Whatever it would hit, someone somewhere would miss or mourn for it. Such thoughts would always depress me.

Now I fretted over more than just school or the mall or a tree in the park, plus just the average person. I knew more of them myself now. Not much, but more all the same; R.G.Y., Them – as much as I felt I disliked them, I still didn't like the thought of them being struck by lightning, it was nasty – and The Boy.

The Boy.

Where was he now? Was he okay, or was he hurt? Was he happy, or was he sad? Did he like storms, or did he hate them? Was he out there in the rain?

For the latter question, I wanted it to be that all I'd have to say to that was if he _were_ out there in that precipitation, then he'd be more than mildly stupid. But it wasn't. There was something else that grabbed none too gently at my stomach and twisted it violently at the thought of him out there with the wind and rain and thunder and lightning, it was a… fearfulness, a fearfulness for his safety. It was never safe to be out in the eye of a storm. But then, why was I even concerned for him like that, a stranger…? I didn't know.

_The eye_. That was a funny way of putting it, I mused, storms had no eyes, but I guess it just creates the feel of something watching you, seeing you, and sending the lightning down to strike when it felt like it or was bored. I shuddered as I stopped before Namine's door, way to decrease my feelings of security in a storm…

"_It would be nice to have some company for a change…"_

Oh, I really did hope he was okay...

The light was still on within her room. I knew, because I could see the outline of the door illuminated by it, a yellow-y whiteness that surrounded it and shone brightly through the gaps. Also, the door was slightly ajar, something that wasn't a natural occurrence, but I didn't dare to let myself dwell on it. There was a sign on the white wood, it generally read GO AWAY, but of course, knowing Namine's style I'm sure you'd know the reality of the colourfulness of the actual words. Nobody visited her room, except for the maids when they cleaned it and, clearly, she was always up early enough so our parents found no reason to disturb her whilst she was in there.

But you know me now, and sometimes, I wondered…

What does she do in there?

I knocked, the door wobbling a little because of its insecure position.

My response? Silence.

"Namine?"

I couldn't help but relate this to yesterday morning, (was it really only yesterday?) and muse over how out positions were now currently reversed, but with practically every other single thing the same. For starters, she was refusing to reply. And it _did_ irritate me, but I was more in control of my anger, and I was able to keep it at bay easily enough.

"Namine? Can you hear me?"

"No." I heard a seething voice reply, "Go away." Despite her tone of voice and her choice of words, I couldn't help but grin widely. I knew she wouldn't be able to resist a retort like that, but at least now I knew she could hear me, probably unwillingly and wishing for the opposite, but she hear me all the same. It made me feel strangely powerful, because she was trapped, in a way, in that room. And I was the one in control now who, when talking, had to be listened to. Sure, she could turn on some music or something, but I'd hear that. I'd become aware of it and seek some other means to make her listen. I know it's a lame emotion to experience, a ridiculous moment of dominance, but it happened, and I'm just telling things how they occurred.

Even though the door was obviously unlocked, and that if I stepped into her room I'd have more of a chance with letting her know I really meant my words and all that jazz. I suddenly felt myself chickening out a small bit, regardless of my abrupt flare of power, I was still too weak to go right on in and confront her face to face. So I opted to stay outside like the weakling I was.

"Namine, look, I understand you probably don't like me at the moment –"

"Get your freakin' facts straight, will ya? It's not probably, it's bloody _really_."

Ouch. Punch me why don't you? I gritted my teeth and sucked in a brusque intake of breath. Now that, _that_ was completely uncalled for. But I didn't dare reach out for that door.

"Okay, fine," I played along, pretending I couldn't care less, whilst drumming my fingers on my thigh irritably, "Well, I just wanted to t –"

"Screw you, Kairi, are you deaf? I said fookin' _bugger off_," She snapped, I heard the sound of something slamming against something else, and assumed that it was probably her hairbrush on her dresser or something along those lines.

"Actually," I deadpanned, "You said 'go away.'"

There was a short pause. "That," Namine finally breathed, fury was evident in her voice and in the way her breath appeared to come out raggedly, "Was –"

"Just listen, Namine!" I suddenly cut across her, abruptly feeling as if I'd had enough of her. I stopped my drumming on my fingers and instead had them closely clenched by my sides as I tilted my upper body forwards a little, spreading my feet out. I couldn't be bothered for an argument, I just plainly didn't have the tolerance for one with her tonight, I decided to point this out to her; "I'm not here to have an argument with you –"

"Oh yeah?" She spat testily, I heard her clicking her tongue impatiently, because unsurprisingly she didn't believe me at all. And of course, she always thought she was right that I was lying – though why I would suddenly want to pick a fight in the middle of the night was beyond me, I could tell by the way that she clicked that tongue. Click, click, click.

"Yeah! I actually came to thank you! Can you _believe _that?" I said, raising my voice out of sheer rage. It was close to a shout, but I honestly didn't want to wake anybody up at this time, especially a certain couple that go by the names Hedaki and Treasa Memoiri. So I kept my noisiness as controlled as possible. And still my feet had not budged forwards one inch.

"Not really," She snapped. Click, click, click.

"Well. Grow up, will you? 'Cause –"

"_Grow up_?!" She suddenly shrieked, and I heard rapid quick and heavy footfalls before something pounded against her door, effectively causing it to slam. Logic told me it would be her fists, but in that moment I dearly hoped it was her entire body that just thrust itself against the wood even if the resulting _bang_ hadn't been quite loud enough for that, "_You're_ telling _me_ to bloody grow up, Kairi?"

I wondered why she had suddenly closed her door like that; lingering on the other side to possibly make sure I didn't go in. I knew she lingered there, because I could still hear her, and the doors and walls in this house were more than just a little thick. Courtesy of my father and his money, of course.

"Yes." I answered simply, but heatedly.

There was a brief silence, I celebrated silently to myself as I knew I'd overthrown her, it was something I did only rarely, and I think the frequency in which I was doing so recently was baffling my sibling more than she liked. Well, I thought childishly, sucks to her.

"_God_," She finally muttered, her voice quieter not only because of the lowness of it, but because apparently she'd stepped a couple of paces away too, I don't really understand how I actually knew this, her voice just seemed… fainter, and, obviously, further away. "Whatever, okay? Just… whatever."

"Fine. Well. Thanks anyway," I said curtly, turning to leave, longing for my bed and noiseless dreams.

"Thanks for what? Getting your lazy arse out of the freakin' house to actually have a bloody life?" She enquired in what I think was supposed to be a nasty and infuriating tone, but what she didn't seem to realise was that she was right on the ball. I paused where I stood, twisted my upper half back to face her door even though there wasn't anything there to visually confront.

"Well… yeah." I answered, almost awkwardly, suddenly feeling quite foolish that she would assume that the reason I was thanking her was actually the right one, and that she didn't assume it in a good way.

"_What_?" As if to back the latter up, she was clearly dumbstruck.

"Yeah, and I sure hope my dear little _Nami _isn't getting deaf either," I shot her own comeback right back at her, feeling rather proud of myself as I did so, so proud that I my lips managed to grace a small smile.

"Shut up, and don't call me that, you bitch! _I saw you_, okay?!" She was actually shouting now, and whilst I wanted to tell her to keep her voice down, to do so would only make her be louder and therefore wouldn't help at all, also, there would be no point because it wasn't as if she would do what I said anyway. It made me bristle with an overload of annoyance that she would call me such a name, especially when there clearly wasn't a true explanation as to _why_ she had the privilege to do so. I also wondered what she meant, that she saw something. I didn't have to wait for long to find out. "In that crappy shop. With the dirty urchin. Standing right next to him… ugh! So stay out there, will you? I don't want to catch a bloody disease or anything."

My blood boiled within my veins, my anger nearly exploded then and my insides turned hotter than I thought it was possible for them to become. Oh, she really just had to bring The Boy into this, didn't she? As far as she should be concerned, he had absolutely nothing to do with this, and yet she brings him into this stupid and pointless dispute. Suddenly I didn't know anymore why I even bothered to talk to her at all, much less _thank _her, she didn't deserve gratitude, not after what she'd just said. Because there was that name again, 'urchin', it was what They called him. What everyone seemed to call him around here except for the few who mercifully let him be. So she really was one of Them, degrading him to as low as it could probably get. Like something worthless, insignificant, without meaning to even exist. Like a pile of rubbish that is just there that They wanted to get rid of, because it was just in Their self-centred way.

It didn't matter that she called me a 'bitch' before, as far as I was interested that could just be relating to the female dog, but to call him an 'urchin' and presume that he had a 'bloody disease'… that was far worse to me. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It wasn't _just_.

The reasons why she would even go into the art store to be able to see me didn't even cross my mind, as if it was something completely normal that happened everyday. As if.

"That was low, Namine, even for you," I said in a voice so low and deadly, I frightened myself and couldn't believe such a sound could issue from my throat. It didn't seem to deter Namine, however, for she just continued to ramble on in an apparent rage.

"Riku told me all about him! He's a freak, Kairi, and if I were you, I'd keep my bloody distance," _Was she actually looking out for me, or was she just on a roll insulting him?_ I suddenly thought disgustedly, my face contorting to match the latter emotion that I felt. I'll be damned if she cared one bit about me, truthfully, so I guessed the second one would be correct if anything. "I wouldn't even go anywhere near him for a million pounds –" She babbled on.

"That's hard to believe…" I muttered, desperately trying to tune her out. But why didn't I just leave then? I could just walk away, and she probably wouldn't even realise. Just keep on talking to her self. Except I suppose I wanted to make sure she stopped being insolent about him before I went, I didn't want her to think I was agreeing with her or unable to defend anyone or anything along those lines. I didn't recognise the name Riku, but I supposed it was one of Them, so I didn't really care. They'd always be Silver, Ginger, Buffy, Blondie and Imp to me now, no matter what, only if it was to infuriate Them. Something I just knew I'd take great pleasure in.

"He lives out on the fookin' streets, for cryin' out loud, he's a lil' street rat! He assaults girls and steals things and stuff. I heard that he –"

"Stop it, Namine, just stop it," I interrupted suddenly. Feeling my anger brimming. Soon, I knew I wouldn't be able to stand this anymore. I don't understand why, but I hated to hear her badmouthing The Boy more than anyone I'd heard her badmouthing before, as far as I could remember anyway. It was strange to me, but I wasn't thinking about its weirdness, all that ran through my mind right then was that I didn't think I'd ever hated her more before.

"No! Don't you see? He's corrupting you! Oh, I don't know why I bloody bother…" Her voice trailed off as a sigh was heard. A sigh of disappointment and regret, of anger and bitterness. Or at least, that was what it sounded like to me. It was a sigh so heavy that you would have thought that the weight of the world was being burdened upon her. Finally, I had an opening, an opening to refute, an opening to, quite frankly, get a word in edgeways – or sideways, or just about any other ways, I don't know, take your pick. But I had an opening to actually say something, and boy, did I say something, for I, quite simply, went absolutely ballistic.

I think the whole house actually heard me.

"Well then don't! Don't bother, Namine, and leave him alone! Do you hear me? _Leave him alone_!"

It was the last part that was the loudest, so loud I was really screaming. So loud that it scratched sharply at the muscles of my throat and I could feel the vibrations in the said place, the hoarse and dryness that was left behind so that as I gasped to regain my breath the air was rough against the inside of my gullet. My violet eyes were wide and wild, I felt it, and my face was hot, I felt that too. If I'd thought to go cross-eyed, even for a second, I know I would have seen a beat red nose in my adjusted field of vision. My fists were clenched so tightly now that the knuckles somehow stood out white against my already ghostly pale skin. Then without another thought, I turned, and I ran. I ran all the way back to my room, as fast as I could, ignoring any lights I saw that flicked on or voices that shouted behind me. Whether it was my name or something completely unrelated that they said, I didn't know. I didn't care. I was stupid to have thought that anything else would have come out of this, trying to talk and thank Namine for being the reason I was introduced to R.G.Y. and The Boy.

Yeah, it was stupid, so stupid I never really understood why I allowed mere urges to motivate me into such actions. But it seems that even measly impulses such as that could drive a person into doing the most craziest of things.

**Sometimes things that were crazier than you might realise.**

::**x**.**x**::

I was so protective of you, but I can't **understand** why.  
I'd _**only**_ spent no more than _**half an hour**_ in your company,  
Yet it **f**elt as if I k n e w you so much better.  
To make me like this, just who **are** you?  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**End of Chapter Two (Part II/II).**

**I would like to thank:  
**_Chasingfireflies, Sora195, FrozenFire42, crystalnami_ and _earth2water1element_ for reviewing my story so far, you guys have kept me going even from just a few words, and you make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Seriously. Whenever I get an E-Mail telling me I have a review, it makes me so happy :) Thank you all so much!

'Tis all I got to say right now. No S.P. I'm afraid, still working on Chapter 3, which might be a 'Part 1' too. I'm starting to think I waste my time with the S.P.'s actually… yeah, I don't think I'll do those again.

The underlining is all bummered up, and it won't go back to how I want it! So annoyingly stubborn!

Please tell me what you think!

**A **s_**toryteller**_** is I, now it ends we say **g_**oodbye**_**.**

**onlylotte.**


	4. Chapter Four: A Secret

**Full Summary:  
**_**His little light and little fire, to mess with her is to burn.  
**__From the moment that Kairi see's the boy, she feels an instant connection to him. And when she talks to him properly; her world comes alive. However, to everyone else, he quickly becomes an object of hatred and jealousy. Kairi naively tries to understand just why people despise and turn the boy down, as well as the meaning behind her motherly protection over him. But Fate is a cruel thing, for by some sick and twisted turn of it, Kairi is torn beyond repair when he suddenly has to leave.  
__Only it is when he goes that she realises that she must do what was right in her heart._

Not really that much to say… just that, well, I apologize that it's been a few weeks. But I write best in my own time. So it would take a while.

**E**njo**y**.

* * *

"_Sarcasm is the body's natural defence against stupidity. Fact._"

**A**_ Secret of foreboding consequences.  
_**M**_onday_.  
**31****st**** O**_ctober_.

**The storm outside raged on as my small bare feet pounded along the thick crimson carpet of the corridor, and it was getting angrier and angrier by the minute. Upon arriving at my **room, thenoise was deafening as the sound of my mahogany door banging against my cream coloured wall was accompanied by the colossus boom of a thunder crack. I was hastily closing my door behind me against the shouts from within and automatically locking it whilst lightening flashed barely a millisecond later, which meant the storm was right above us now. But the slice of blinding light wasn't in the distant navy blue and dull grey sky, it wasn't like a vicious fork that cut sharply through the endless space, it wasn't a flare of white and purple that went in stark contrast against the sinister and dark colours of the night. Nature hated me that day, so why should it be nice?

It was a streak of fleeting light right outside my balcony doors.

A few seconds transpired. There was an explosion.

The course of action I decided to take next surprised even me back then, I didn't understand what motivations made me do it, and I still don't. Perhaps it was those urges again, motivating me into carrying it out, or maybe I just felt daring and defiant. But whatever the reason was, nothing can change the fact that I did it. My fears of the noise of thunder and the sight of lightening seemed to be nonexistent then, I was quite literally throwing cautions to the winds. And they were blown very far away from me so that I could sense them no longer.

I threw my balcony doors open.

I couldn't remember the journey from one aforementioned entryway and the next, it seemed that I'd hitched a ride on another bolt of lightening to get there, I'd been so fast. I didn't care. Even as the rain practically washed over me in all its bucket loads, drenching me before I'd even taken a step outside. I didn't care. I ran out into the chaos, in the direction the lightening had gone, towards my right.

I slipped. My feet shooting in front of me too quick for the rest of me to follow, courtesy of the layer of water that made the marble of my balcony shimmer in the ghostly moons unwavering light. A moon that somehow managed to half heartedly shine through that cover of depressingly dreary storm clouds. I fell down ungracefully onto my backside, my newly soaking hair slapping my face as if to knock some sense back into me. It didn't work. Sorry backside throbbing and more wet than it was before I'd taken my trip, I twisted my legs around appropriately so that I was sitting on my shins, and pushed myself back up into a standing position. I was more cautious with the next steps I took, pretty much tip-toeing my way across, as if I was afraid one small noise I made would be catastrophic against the whisper of the storm. Gripping the railing tightly to ensure balance, I looked over and down at the ground.

I was met with another sloppy slap to my cheek.

Instinctively, I jerked backwards. Heart pounding. Breathing hitching. Loosing my footing. Again. Only this time I was able to gratefully catch myself with the help of the marble barrier before I caused myself more unnecessary body harm. I pulled myself back up, and looked again, except without leaning over so much. I sighed unsteadily with relief when I saw what I did.

It was only the leaves of a tree.

I blinked.

Eh? Since when did the trees get so close?

They didn't. And I knew that. But this was definitely the bushy greenery of a tree. And it was right beside my balcony, but there'd never been a tree there before.

I frowned down at it; I knew I was because now that I looked, I could see to outline of it, courtesy of what little light shone onto it. The brightness picked out on some individual leaves that were waving rather ferociously in the swirling winds. Too ferociously. They appeared like some kind of strange and eerie limbs. Hands. Beckoning me towards them with urgency. It seemed rather weird how I should see them that way, but I thought those thoughtless living things had known there was something wrong that I hadn't even contemplated about yet.

_We shouldn't be here._

Of course I knew that.

_So why are we_?

The lightening…

… Had struck down this tree?

_But why_? Was the first thought that slyly entered my mind, knowing that it would cause mass mayhem. It knew it would, because I didn't know the answer, and that always riled me up to the point where I became obsessed of finding the remedy. There were plenty of trees around, plenty of other objects that should attract the lightening more powerfully, like magnets. Yet it had hit this particular plant, which didn't have any of the ingredients that should interest such, and was standing among a huge crowd of the same things. It amused me too, about how the tree had been so easily brought to its wooden knees.

Then I saw the smoke.

It was curling upwards lazily, floating passive and mindlessly up to the still rampant clouds. There wasn't a lot of it, but it was pretty hard to miss when it drifted up right in front of my nose.

"Ah," I muttered.

And began to climb down.

I swung my legs nimbly over the lame excuse for a railing, hanging onto the rim of the semi-circle with only my toes; the latter appendage tightening as an automatic response. I wasn't bothered by this; it wasn't anything new for me to clamber my way down to the ground from my bedroom balcony. I transferred the nearest foot, my left as it were, to the criss-crossed wooden planks that supported the vines that twisted around them and hung on for dear life as they made their slow journey up the house, the mission to cover the wall with a layer of liana. The thin wood dug into me as it was wedged between my toes and the balls of my feet. I quickly moved my right foot to join my left on the planks, my hands grabbing at it too as I shifted my feet until they were more bearable to put my full weight on.

Thus began my slow descent.

It was slow, because the wind was so strong now that it buffeted me about a bit, threatening to tear me away from the wall. I retaliated by pulling my body in and waiting for the gust to pass. There was a terrifying moment where my foot missed the strip of wood and I nearly lost my balance as my body lurched down. My left hand saved me. But from that point on I was slower still, cautious and feeling around with my feet instead of just thrusting them down and expecting the wood to catch them readily. Finally, though, I made it to the bottom, and my body sagged with the relief of feeling solid ground supporting me again.

For a few seconds I stood where I was, one hand clutching the wood as I regained the breath I lost to anxiety and fear. If I was rightfully honest, I was a little afraid of grounds. It wasn't heights. For it was the ground that hurt you if you fell. Hence the reason I feared the latter. I swallowed once, straightening up, I proceeded towards the overturned tree with awareness of any possible dangers I might face. Whatever was causing the smoke, it could still be dangerous, whatever it was.

Upon reaching the tree, I rested a shaking hand against its sodden trunk. The shakiness of the limb surprised me, and I quickly brought it up in front of my face. Obviously wondering why it shook so much, enough so that my brow creased into a frown. But then there was another blow of wind, powerful enough to make me stumble and suddenly realise just why my hand was quivering. My whole body was quivering. And I suppose the cold rain didn't help either.

Holy crow, I was _freezing_.

As soon as I was aware of this, I abruptly couldn't shake the thought from my mind. I was certain, too, that I was trembling enough to accomplish that. Apparently not. My teeth chattered painfully. I hugged myself, trying desperately to transfer some little warmth into my body. One of my hands rose to grip my jaw in an attempt to silence the tremor of the latter.

I stood like that for a while. Paralysed into immobilization. Unable to move because I was afraid the tiniest of movement would make me colder than I already felt. I didn't want that. And even though I knew staying still wouldn't help me, I couldn't muster the energy to force myself to move. I'm sure most people have experienced this, possibly even you. If you have, then I hope you understand what I mean. My mind felt disconnected, and it felt as if I had no control over anything. My brain screamed at my limbs to budge, shift, do something, _anything_. And my body protested against the messages. Stubbornly. I tried harder. The feelings were building up within me, becoming almost too much to bear. That was when my body relented.

My elbow jerked outwards. And then I was moving again.

Anxious that it would happen once more, I refused to pause even for a second in motion. I walked along the trunk steadily, squinting to see the trail of smoke that seemed to be emitting from somewhere near its base. I kept making my hands twitch, my arms move. Crossing over my chest. Swinging by my sides. Jittery-ly clapping my hands together. Rubbing at my forearms. Anything. Doing everything, yet, nothing, all at the same time. Every time my foot wasn't connected to the ground, I would make it pivot around by the ankle in a circle before it met the muddy grass again.

The smoke-trial ended.

I stopped. Marching on the spot. And looked down towards the source of the smoke.

I stopped marching.

I stopped breathing.

I stopped moving.

I stared. And all at once I was in motion too quickly for my brain to have ordered it.

I dropped to my knees, ignoring the stab of pain to my shins, and reached out a hand. But then I hesitated, my hand pausing in mid air. What if it was dangerous…? What if it hurt me…? What if…? I laughed at myself.

Since when could a small crushed Shih-Tzu hurt you?

I looked at the tiny creature. It was a minute lump. Trapped underneath the massive trunk of the tree. The bark dwarfed the already small dog. Its fur was mattered and unkempt, drenched through with… well, with liquid. But it was too dark to tell just what the liquid was. The thought had me shuddering. As my wide violet eyes roamed over the dog, my thoughts were spiralling into despair as my brain worked to come up with the conclusion that was inevitable, I found the dog's face.

I swear my heart skipped a beat. Or two.

My sad conclusion was confirmed.

The dog was dead.

Or was dead the right word?

Sure, its small beady cerulean eyes were lifeless. Staring, but not seeing. But then where was the smoke coming from? What about a Shih Tzu could cause smoke? Smoke meant fire. And how was fire created? Friction. Electricity. The first, I doubted. Everything was too wet and squashy to have any kind of hopes of producing friction. The second… electricity…

Electricity… from the dog…? But that was stupid, that was insane! How could a harmless tiny Shih-Tzu have –?

… Was it even a Shih-Tzu?

It _looked_ like a Shih-Tzu, but looks could be deceiving. Mind you, _everything_ could be deceiving. Looks, words, eyes… you don't even know whether what you _see _is actually _there_. How can you? All you can be sure about is that _you_ are really there, that _you_ exist. But… if that were true, and everybody only knew for certain that only they were real… how does that work? How do you trust? People _need _to trust, but how is it accomplished when you can't even trust another persons' very existence?

I trust. I can trust rather easily. Too easily, perhaps, but that was just how I worked. I trust plenty of people, plenty of things.

I trusted then that this creature, be it a Shih-Tzu or not, wouldn't harm me. And with that resolve, I began to dig it out from under the tree with my bare hands.

It took a long time. The storm was as hectic as ever, and I'm pretty certain that I was as cold as ever. But I never gave these particular factors a seconds' thought. Mud soared through the air, splattering all over me; on my skin, on my nighty, on my hair… everywhere. I just kept on digging and digging, until, that is, the hole seemed large enough for me to be able to pull the dog out, and unburden it with the literal weight of the tree on its shoulders. I did so. However, something sparkled momentarily in the moonlight, catching my violet hued gaze.

Did the dog's skin just sparkle?

I bent over the creature, looking at its fur intently. There was another flash. On its skin.

On its skin? I squinted. My eyes widened.

No, that wasn't _skin_.

**That was… **_**metal.**_

--x-x--

"**Kairi, darling, what in heaven's name **_**happened **_**last night?"**

My spoon poised in mid air, hovering over the bowl of half eaten coco shreddies that was on the mahogany table before me. The hand that hadn't just tightened its hold on the utensil curled into a fist in my lap. My elbows were off the table, as was my father's rule, and of course my father's rules were always followed; for a person's well-being more than anything. Almost hesitantly, I slowly looked up. Having expected and anticipated the inevetible conversation that would follow this question, but having dreading it even more.

"Hm?" I muttered, in a nearly non-existent voice. Glancing back down at my breakfast.

For once, it seemed, my mind wasn't actually on thoughts of The Boy that morning. No. This time, it was wandering over to examine my memories of the 'dog' last night. It had been made of metal, so what did that make it? A machine? A robot? I didn't know. But certainly not animal. Not flesh and bone. Or blood.

I'd dragged the small creature through my secret exit through the wall, laying it to rest just off the side. This action had to be carried out because not long after I'd identified the metal, I saw the beam of light that meant the guards were approaching, so it had to be done quickly. No one would see it now, not even the snooping guards, considering there was a sort of woods surrounding our mansion home near entirely, and no one knows about my secret exit. That included the trees mentioned yesterday. At least, I hoped no one would wander by and catch a glimpse of it. I wouldn't have thought anyone would, people are too intimidated to even approach the front gate these days, let alone risk to punishment for getting caught lurking among the trees. No, the supposed 'dog' would be safe, I was sure of it.

That morning, when I'd looked, the tree was still there. I wondered why they hadn't moved it yet, and then wondered why I was wondering.

Did it really matter? Not really.

I had to work out what I would do with the dog though. If it was mechanical, then how in the world do I sort it out? I was no good with that kind if thing.

Hm…

"_Kairi_? Don't you _dare_ ignore your mother." This voice was a different one. Rougher. Masculine.

_Why not? Sheesh, what do you __**want**__? _"_What_?"

"What was that, Kairi?"

"I said, 'What?'"

Father gave me a funny look. A warning look. I knew that look. I didn't like it.

"I apologize, Father, yes, Father?" I recited in a monotone, staring at the bits of chocolate grains that floated lazily in the milk in my bowl.

"Apology accepted. Now, look at me, Kairi."

_Do I __**have **__to? _But I did. Fearing the consequences of otherwise. Father's expression was stern; it was an expression that didn't promise me a nice cosy chat. But it was fantastic at guaranteeing a lovely telling off. Wonderful. I held his familiar lavender-blue gaze with my own, oh how that look reminded me of my sister; it was the same colour and everything. Even as I tried to match his glare, it was obvious that mine was nowhere near as menacing as his.

And I knew, just from that one glare, that Namine had already opened her big fat lying mouth.

"What happened last night, Kairi?" Father asked me, his voice was low and somewhat deadly. Just what had Namine told him? I didn't think I wanted to know, yet, I did. I was curious as to which selected words had made Father this incensed, or as enraged as he was letting on, anyway. A brief look over at Namine on my left showed me that she was smirking and had smug written all over her face. Not literally, of course, but it was as clear by her expression that if you had gone and taken a permanent marker and wrote across her features 'SMUG', then there wouldn't have been much difference in the obviousness.

For a moment panic swelled deep within me, but I forced myself to stay calm and frown slightly; something to physically show Father I was thinking about my answer. What happened? I went to Namine's room and tried to thank her for taking me to 'The Gardens'. Namine turned the whole thing into an argument. And… that was all there was to it.

Right?

Suddenly I was truly composed inside myself, I wasn't forcing it anymore. I had the truth on my side, I had done nothing wrong. There was nothing to worry about.

Right?

I hoped so.

"Well…" I began, "I went to Namine's room la –"

"So you _did_ go there?"

I blinked. Overthrown momentarily by the interruption. But I soon regained control. "Um… I did just say that…"

"At what time?"

"I… uh… think it was quarter to midnight?"

For a few more seconds Father just stared at me. No, _glared _would be a better word. His eyes sliced into me, an ice cold gaze if ever there was one. I even shivered.

"Did you wake your sister up?" He asked me sharply.

_Excuse me? _"I… wha… _no_!" I replied, flabbergasted. Wondering why he was enquiring such…

… And then working it out.

Namine. Of _course _it was her. I sighed.

"You know, that's strange. You have a very different view of events than your sister," Said Father, his eyes narrowing.

_Of course I have a very different view of events than her; I just __**can't**__ get my head that far up my arse. I'm __**so**__ sorry, Father._ I gritted my teeth. I knew it was hopeless, whatever her argument may be, it was inevitable that our parents would believe her side of the story and think any alterations in mine were a pile of _ahem _absolute shizzel. To put it politely. I slowly and carefully placed my spoon down beside my bowl, thinking that it would be best to place it down before something made me make it go flying. Or something along those lines. I could practically sense Namine's wide grin, even though I could see from the corner of my eye that she was hiding behind a breakfast menu in an attempt to conceal it.

I heard a movement, and looked up quickly to see Mother shifting in her seat across the table from me. She'd placed her daily magazine down on the table beside her regular cup of black coffee, lifting a hand to remove her spectacles – which were only necessary for her to read things up close, she was long-sighted – from her small nose, she turned to see Father still staring at me and spoke up in a quiet voice. Mother has never been a fan of arguments or even heated discussions, and she could tell as well as I could that one was close to happening.

"Hedaki, please don't –" But one of Father's hands had risen up to effectively silence her immediately, and Mother complied, not wanted to go against him. Just as a servant came in to remove Namine's plate, which she had finished when the conversation had started; Father spoke again loudly and brusquely, obviously intent on the servant hearing as well. Father has never been one to like repeating himself when the job can be done easier by making everyone listen at once.

"So, Kairi, last night you were wandering around past curfew and decided to wake your sister up and argue loudly with her so that you would _both_ get into trouble, and not just yourself?" Father summed up with that well-known careful air of arrogance about him, in the belief that he was telling things exactly as they had happened. Which he knew not that he wasn't. I leaped up to my feet, both through surprise and anger that Namine had told such a lie. She had been up too, who the hell did she think she was, saying it had solely been me?

"That's not –!"

"_Silence_!" Father roared as he rose as well, clearly he knew that he was far taller than myself, and knew that it would only work to intimidate me. He was successful, too. Suddenly I didn't feel quite so brave. I hated how my Father was, he always had to be the one in control, and when things start to lean towards otherwise, he's furious.

He was angry now. "Sit down," He told me curtly.

I sat down. So did he, slowly, and without taking his piercing gaze off me. _Strange, _I found myself thinking again, quite out of the blue, as I watching him lower himself back down, _parents spend the first part of our lives teaching us to walk and talk, and the rest of it telling us to sit down and shut up. _I looked down at my lap, which caused my henna tresses to fall down, effectively concealing my smile of amusement as intended.

Father took a few more moments to glare at me before speaking again.

"I'm sure you heard the storm last night, Kairi," Father suddenly said. Signalling for the servant to take the dishes in, and then come back and stand beside him. The servant turned to carry out the command. I looked back up at him, somewhat surprised by the sudden change of subject. I knew, though, that the previous matter hadn't been entirely dropped, Father would get back to it. Right now, however, it seemed he had another complaint to make. His tone of voice certainly implied this, anyway. "And I'm also sure that you're aware that the lightening struck down a tree right outside your bedroom window." He was looking at me, a hard expression on his face. I knew he would examine my own face as I thought about my reply and then answered him, to see whether I was lying or not.

I had to lie though. I didn't know where the guy was going with this line of questions and statements. I had to play dumb to stay safe, which is exactly what I did.

"Right outside my window?" I repeated with the best at a shocked expression. His eyes narrowed once again.

"Yeah, Kairi, _right _outside your window," Namine piped up. I looked at her; she had the most annoying expression on her face. I kept my own expression surprised, however, and turned back to Father. I shook my head at him, letting my mouth hang open as loosely as I could.

"Well, actually, that's news to –" I began to say in a laughing voice as I went to pick up my spoon. Father interrupted me.

"_Don't _lie to me, young lady."

"I'm not lying!" I protested, lowering my spoon again and trying to look startled and angry that he had accused me. "For your information, I was under my covers as soon as I came back from Namine's room. I heard an explosion, but didn't dare to go and investigate anything." Well, _I _think it was a good lie.

"Oh?" Father retorted testily. I didn't know how to reply to that, so I just tilted my head at him, gave a funny shrug of the shoulders, and turned my attention back to my almost forgotten breakfast. There was a brief silence, before Father cleared his throat.

"Well," He said, slightly awkwardly in having been thrown off by me, I grinned at the shreddie on my spoon; making sure to keep it obscured, "Well, - hey, wait." I glanced up when he said that, he was looking at me funnily. "There was an explosion?"

I froze. Quickly, I coughed. "Um, well, you see… I guess I meant like, as in, the bang when the tree fell down. I… just worded it wrongly. Sorry."

He continued to stare at me oddly, and then after a while he began to nod slowly. I made sure to contain my sigh of relief as Father spoke up again. I was barely able to stop my hand from going to my chest; my heart was thumping so frantically at nearly being caught out. Whew.

"Okay, so the guards found the tree, the leaves where almost hanging over your balcony," He continued.

"Were they now?" I murmured, still keeping my eyes averted. He cleared his gullet again, the noise was animalistic. Like a growl. It made me think of lions and tigers. Cats. But I forced myself to concentrate on what he was saying.

"…looked all around it, they were as surprised that such a great tree had gone down as I was when I heard."

"I'm sure they were," I muttered to myself quietly. Father was still talking. "… -thing was wrong. But then they got to the other side and saw something that they found rather strange."

"And what was that?" I asked sub-consciously, forgetting something vital as I did so. For once, I wasn't thinking. The words just slipped out. I was doomed.

"Footprints. Human footprints," He stated coldly. I froze for the third time that breakfast. In fact, I almost chocked on my mouthful of milk. "They found these footprints beginning at the bottom of the vine rack, and then going down towards the tree. The footprints went along the tree, until they gradually began to fade. Further on, however, was a hole which looks like it was clawed out by human hands."

I could have kicked myself. But physically that was impossible if I was to deny that I was the cause of these footprints. So I did it mentally instead, as well as cursing myself. The only thing I suppose I could be grateful for was the fact that the footprints that would have lead to my secret exit had been wiped out. But how was another matter altogether. It could have just been the elements, but what if somebody had seen them and followed them? What if they got rid of them afterwards? What if they found the dog? I could have killed myself for being so careless, but I'd been so cold and wet, I'd just wanted to go back inside.

Plus, there were the guards. So I guess I didn't really have time to actually stop and destroy the footprints, did I?

Did I?

Father was still waiting for my reaction. I hastily tried my best to compose myself. "Did… did they really?" I finally managed quite breathlessly, refusing to allow my body to gulp.

"Yes, they did," He confirmed, I could feel his eyes on me. I could _sense _it. I didn't like it one bit. "And considering the vine rack and the tree are right beside your bedroom, my first genuine thought was that you did it."

"Then you thought wrong," I tried to say in a firm voice. It came out shakily. And I'm sure that my father noticed this.

He did. "Then why does your voice shake?" He asked me slyly. I looked up at him, unable to stop my eyes from growing wide. "Why do you look so scared, Kairi?"

"I… I…" I had to swallow then; it was so hard to stem the urge. "It's just…" Something clicked, and within myself I relaxed slightly. "The very thought that there was somebody snooping around outside and around my bedroom…"

I instantly knew that Father's face fell. I instantly knew that I had provided the perfect cover story. I instantly knew that my last sentence had completely thrown him off.

I instantly knew that he didn't know what else to say.

Father took his time to observe me as I stared at him, doing my best to act as if my story was the truth. Wobbly lip. Wide eyes. Shaking hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mother reach out a hand for me in a supposed attempt to solace me. I think I convinced her, but with my family you can never really tell. All of them can be such fantastic actors and actresses. Namine practically radiated frustration and defeat, and that above everything else made me feel the most elated. Father lifted his hand and clicked his fingers twice. The servant, having been stood there behind him in some sort of trance, started and blinked rapidly before he hastily made his way to my Father's side. He leaned his ear down towards Father's mouth when he was signalled to do so by a beckoning finger, and Father's eyes lingered on me before he looked away to turn his head and murmur into the servant's ear.

The servant nodded with a somewhat unhappy expression which he quickly changed, and began to walk around the table towards me, his face now blank. I watched him curiously as he made his way to my side, and was shocked when he grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me to my feet.

"What the –"

"Quiet!" Father snapped. I looked at him, bewildered, "Because you couldn't be bothered to stay within the confines of your own room last night, or remain quiet and give the house some peace for that matter, you can do these things this _day_ instead. Plus the fact that you have just lied to me doesn't help you at all." He turned to the servant and gave a careless wave of his hand. "Take her up and lock her in."

With a small tug and an anxious glance, the servant reluctantly obeyed. Clearly he didn't appreciate escorting me anywhere; he only worked in the boundaries of the kitchen, after all, and was possibly afraid that he wouldsteer me the wrong way.I didn't carefor his worries, however; I was too busy laughing to myself at my father's stupidity. Since when did my bedroom door being locked affect where I went or what I did? I did my best to look enraged as I was pulled out of the room as Mother began to argue with Father about his decision and Namine watched me carefully, but when we reached the stairs and was met with another more superior looking servant, I was hard put to contain the wide smile that curled my lips.

Father, if only you knew… I might die laughing at the expression on your face. But on second thoughts, I think I prefer it that you're unaware of that hole in the wall that has become my escape.

**That way, you see, I can still use it…**

--x-x--

**I suppose it's both lucky and unlucky that the kitchen servant and I ran into the other more superior one that knew his way around the house.** **It was lucky because** **we didn't** **get** lost. But it was unlucky, well, because…

This other one had the keys. And he knew what being locked in meant.

He locked my balcony door, too.

"Hey!" I shouted after him angrily as he began to make his way towards my bedroom door, where the kitchen boy waited anxiously. "This wasn't what you were ordered to do!"

The servant stopped, and turned to look at me with a cold expression in his eyes. "I think I know what 'lock her in' means, _ma'am, _and that means locking up every single door that could prove as an escape route. Good day to you." And with that, the two turned and left. The superior one locked the door behind him from the outside. I was left behind with a somewhat flabbergasted expression on my face.

I huffed. I crossed my arms. I pouted. I was still standing there, almost stubbornly, in the middle of my bedroom floor. But then I sighed, unravelled my arms, and walked forwards to fall unceremoniously onto my bed, twisting around as I did so so that I landed on my back. I bounced a bit, as if the bed was throwing me around like the hot potato in the game… well, hot potato. Before I finally came to rest, with my body sunk into the mattress as deeply as blooming Titanic. The bed sheets rose up on either side of me, as if they were the sides of a valley. I turned my head to the side to stare at the bottom of my bed and beyond. I had nothing to really do; painting, reading, writing, and going on my laptop… I just couldn't be bothered with these anymore. So this was just time to think, really…

As if I didn't do enough of that already.

I sighed again. I guess it was from disappointment or something. But I don't exactly know. After some silent moments, I turned to stare up at the ceiling, and observing the curly pattern on it brought back memories of when I used to find pictures in it. It was at night time, or when I woke up in the morning, and either couldn't get to sleep or was reluctant to rise out of my comfortable sleeping quarters. I would stare at that ceiling and create an image or multiple images amidst the swirls and curls…

I remembered the deformed poodle I made, seen from behind a lion with the back of its mane in view, watching its prey.

I remembered the caterpillar.

The face.

To name but a few; for there were others, of course; many others. But these were the only three that I could think of at the time. The caterpillar? Well, that was just unforgettable and easy. It was only a cluster of circles, after all. As for the other two, I supposed there was a meaning for me to remember them.

The poodle could have represented the dog, and something 'killed' it, therefore we have the lion.

The face was The Boy.

I decided to find them both again and reacquaint myself with their positions on my ceiling. The poodle and lion was easy, almost directly above me from where I lay on my bed, but the picture was on the side. I had found it first when I was lying along my bed and not across it, after all. It took a while longer and was harder, but I eventually found the latter image again, the face, and this time I could actually see the unruly spikes of hair surrounding it. Something I wouldn't have counted within the image before, but now did. I sharply averted my gaze, and turned onto my side, before I sighed and chuckled to myself disbelievingly.

Holy, I was _obsessed._

I scratched the back of my neck, almost as if I was embarrassed, and smiled sheepishly.

There was a movement on the other side of my balcony doors. I saw it through the glass panes. It was no more than a flash of colour and blurred progress.

"Holy cow!" I shrieked, immediately over-reacting as I bolted into a sitting position and sharply turned my head to stare out of the aforementioned door. My head moved so fast that my red-wine hair careened around to whack me in the right eye.

"Ouch!" I groaned, my hand automatically jerking up to tend to my now stinging eye. But obviously there was nothing I could do, and I merely closed the injured eye and continued to survey my balcony from my perspective with just the one other viewing orb. My hand shakily lowered back down to help push my body off the side of the bed. I didn't quite make it in one shove, and when I twisted my arms around to push again my backside slipped off the end and I went whooshing down towards my waiting floor.

I landed heavily. And promptly let out a string of very colourful language that would have made Namine proud. Moaning and grumbling, as well as rubbing my sore bum whilst still muttering indecipherably to myself – even _I _don't know what I was saying, as I think about it now – I picked myself back up.

_This really isn't your day, is it_? I asked myself, and then laughed. First there's the dog, then my father shouting at me at breakfast, then being securely locked into my bedroom against my own free will, then seeing things, injuring my eye and then my poor bottom… I looked back out at my balcony, my eyes half closed; I could have looked half asleep.

It took me a while to notice there was someone staring right back at me.

As soon as this realisation hit home I blinked, rubbed my eyes like you do when you think you're hallucinating, saw that I wasn't when they were still there as I looked again, and then screamed and staggered backwards, ending up falling back onto my bed again. I lay there, breathing heavily, my eyes wide, and supporting my body with my elbows. It was in this position that I risked looking outside again…

…only to find that the eyes were gone.

Out of everything, out of what and why and how and where, naturally the thing that bugs people the most is _who. Who _is out there? _Who _was staring at me just then? Because, of course, if it's someone that you're familiar with and know wouldn't harm you, you calm down. And then the rest of them don't necessarily matter anymore. If it's someone you don't recognise, then at least you know that you're dealing with a total stranger and stuff. But, you see, the thing is, I was obsessed over this one question –who- for the opposite reasons as to your average person. I didn't need to ask who had just been out there. I already knew. And that was what gripped me.

Somebody was banging on my other door. I supposed it was one of the maids. Hearing my scream and coming over, worried that something was wrong. _Well, _I thought, as I listened to the continuous thumping, _not being locked in here would help wonderfully, love, but you see, that's just the problem. _I decided to ignore the vigorous knocking, and instead sought the will to go and search my balcony from right in front of my double doors. That way, I would be able to see the whole thing and find the person out there and secure the knowledge of who exactly it was.

It didn't take me long to decide.

I quickly scrambled off my bed and scurried over to the doors. Not taking care to be quiet about it or anything either at first, but when I realised just how loudly my feet connected to the floor, and the resulting _pound_, I became conscious that the noise would scare the person on my balcony off. So I reduced my pace to a fast walk, stepping down as lightly as I could. When I reached my door I stopped and took a deep breath before turning my head and pressing my cheek against the cool glass. I strained to see past the glass panes and who was there.

And there they were, those rings of bright blue. And around the mesmerizing eyes was the tanned face, along with the untidy locks of rich bronze.

He was here. And I was too elated by his presence to wonder about anything _but_ 'who'.

It was strange. The moment I thought about him, what with the face and that, he was suddenly right outside my bedroom. But I didn't dwell on it; for what was the point, really? There was no way I would know why he was here until I asked him, to think and wonder about it would only result in a painful headache and a heck load of frustration. As well as a lot more questions than answers. It could have been coincidence, but it could have meant something entirely different. I didn't know.

For a while we just stared at each other, and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he considering running away? Was he mustering the will to say something in particular? Not that I'd hear it, of course. But still… it's a thought. My brow creased as I surveyed him. Why was he just stood there? I clenched my fist and rapped my knuckles on the glass lightly, hard enough to be heard, but not too hard to startle the unsuspecting.

He closed his eyes. Took what looked like a deep breath. And moved. For a second I thought he was going to leave, and I opened my mouth to protest. But then he was right in front of me, with just my double doors between us, and I closed my mouth again with a jerk. He tilted his head, almost curiously, and smiled crookedly. I didn't understand why he smiled like that, but it returned it nonetheless, albeit hesitantly and sheepishly. His smile widened into a grin, and it looked like he was on the brink of laughter. My own smile disappeared as I huffed and crossed my arms.

I couldn't act irate with him though, because inside I truly was nothing of the sort. So I relaxed, sighed, and merely observed him. Interested as to what he'd do next. My sigh had misted the glass slightly, and seemingly receiving an idea from this consequence. He leaned forwards to breath onto the glass, clouding it effectively. I watched as he wrote words into it.

_Locked in?_

I glared. I signalled for him to wipe the words away. I breathed onto the glass this time. And wrote my reply.

_**No shizz, Sherlock. How did you know?**_

He laughed at what I marked amidst the condensed water. Before repeating my earlier process.

_Um, because you're not opening the door?_

But before I could give a smart retort or anything, he rubbed it away and wrote something else.

_Want me to unlock it for you?_

_**Because you can.**_

_Sure I can._

_**Prove it.**_

He took his time staring at those last two words, and when I cleaned them away, he was writing again.

_So that's a yes?_

I rolled my eyes. _**So it would seem.**_

He looked up at me, with one eyebrow raised and an expression that said 'Don't get cocky with me'. I laughed this time. But before I could nod to indicate that he could go ahead and unlock the door I heard the sounds of a key turning in the lock of a door.

And it was the wrong one.

Frantically, I wiped the words away and pointed towards off the side of the balcony door, trying to alert him and tell him to get out of view. He just looked at me as if I was insane. I rolled my eyes again, glancing behind me as I heard a click in the lock, and then looking back at him; trying to convey the message. Finally, and this was when the door was beginning to open, he got the implication, and leapt out of sight towards my left. I turned away from the balcony door to face my other entryway, just as the superior servant poked his head around the door.

"Is everything alright in here?" He asked me, boredly, "Davies thinks she heard a scream."

"Oh, everything's just fine!" I said in an overly cheery and high voice, he cocked on eyebrow at me, I sighed, "Really, I just thought I saw something outside, but it was just a bird."

He rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded vaguely like, 'kids these days', and closed the door as he exited the room. I could hear the click of the lock again before he receded down the corridor. I released a steady breath and shook my head, relieved that he had taken my word for it and not come to check or anything. Otherwise we would have been so screwed. I was actually surprised that he'd just gone and believed me like that, but I guess he didn't particularly care about me, so he just lapped up the first excuse that left my lips, scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and accepted it.

_If they were so worried about me, _I thought sourly, _they would have thought to send someone who was more concerned about me. But nooooo… it just goes to show how much my family really do care. Oh yeah, __**loads. **_But I quit my childish sulking and snapped back to reality.

I regained The Boy's attention, and he came forward rather warily. But when he saw that it was only me in my room he relaxed visibly and proceeded to unlock my door. He extracted a strange looking device from his pocket and inserted the nozzle end into my lock; he moved it around a bit, twisting it this way and that, and I could here it scraping inside the lock. I frowned at it as a small click was emitted and the door swung open. The Boy grinned victoriously at me, holding up the device like a gun and blowing away imaginary smoke from its tip before returning it to his pocket. I laughed at his antics.

"Okay, so I stand corrected," I smiled. "What was that, anyway?"

"What? This?" He lifted the device out of his pocket a little, just enough so that I knew what he was referring to.

"Yeah, that," I confirmed as he replaced it again.

"The Lock Picker 3000," He laughed, "Cid's got a thing about '3000', he thinks it makes it sound more professional. Even though we both know a hair clip would do the job just as well."

"But it does," I said, going over to study my lock, and becoming surprised that it didn't look like it'd been tampered with at all. "How does it work?"

He shrugged. "A mechanic never reveals his secrets," He claimed mysteriously as he tapped his nose. "Especially Cid."

"Hey, you just stole the magician's line!"

"Did I really," He mused quietly to himself, "And which magician would that be?"

"Just magicians in general, didn't you know that was their line?"

"Nope," He said simply. Rocking on his heels and placing his hands on the back of his head. I shook my head at him.

"So, _ahem, _anyway," I began, "What brings you here?"

He cocked his head to the side and smiled at me. "My feet."

For a second I just stared at him, blinking, dumbfounded, before I broke out into huge literal hysterics. I couldn't help it, the guy just seemed so logical, it was hilarious. I was bent over, supported with my hands on my knees, and tears pricking at my viewing orbs. When I glanced back up at him, he was looking at me funnily, and that just made me laugh even harder. For a while the only sound that could be heard was my laughter, until I began to steadily calm down and regain my composure. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I could see his face, and I looked up to see that he'd bent down to my level.

"You okay?" He asked slowly, giving me some weird look. I merely grinned at him.

"Never better," I replied breathlessly whilst straightening up again. He followed my lead and rose too.

"I don't see what's so funny," He admitted eventually. I smirked.

"Nothing. I'm sorry. Its fine," I took a breath. "So, let my rephrase that; what are you doing here? Why are you here?"

"_Oh,_" He muttered as if he'd only just got something, I snorted a laugh, "Well, actually…" He trailed off, looking towards the ground. We were silent for some time, until he took a deep breath and met my gaze again. "It's about Bluebell."

I blinked at him. He blinked at me.

"Who's…Bluebell?" I asked unsurely when I came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to elaborate. He stared at me oddly, in advance to facepalming himself. The motion made me flinch at the abruptness.

"Of course," He muttered to himself, his palm still pressed against his forehead. Then he removed it and looked at me again. "I'll show you." And he swung his legs over the marble barrier and began to climb down the vine rack thing. After a while he stopped, and looked back up at me, it seemed he'd realised I wasn't following him, which I wasn't. I was too busy staring and gaping to even move on muscle.

Have you ever had the disappointment when you think that only you know something, and then find out someone else knows it too? Because that was how it was then. I thought I was the only one who knew that you could easily descend the vine rack to get to the ground and escape, yet it turns out that The Boy knows it too.

"C'mon, Kairi, if you use this as footholds you can get to the ground effortlessly, I thought you knew this."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that," I muttered. Embarrassed and upset.

I was sulking when I reached the ground after him. He surveyed me in an amused manner.

"Something up?" He enquired.

"Nah, 'course not," I said sarcastically, "I just thought I'd frown at you for the fun of it." I folded my arms across my chest to emphasize my point of being annoyed.

His eyebrows went up, and a smile curled his lips. "Whatever floats your boat…" He murmured as he began to walk off towards…

…my secret exit?

Now, this was just getting cruel. I trailed along behind him, pouting and kicking lazily at small stones and stuff on the ground, and noticing that the tree was still ever present on my left, hiding The Boy and I from view from any guards. There was the flattened grass and disturbed ground where it had been, so clearly someone had at least _tried _to shift it, but had been unsuccessful. And the newly dug up earth where the hole I had made had been filled in was seen by my violet orbs. Seeing that pile of overturned soil made something suddenly clicked. I froze.

_It could have just been the elements, but what if somebody had seen them and followed them? What if they got rid of them afterwards? What if they found the dog?_

The dog…

"Wait!" I shouted after him, except he didn't even acknowledge my attempt to capture his attention. He just kept on walking his walk at an even pace towards his destination. I ran to catch up to him, but I didn't make it to his side until he was there. Before I could even reach out to stop him, he'd pushed the vines aside and stepped through the bushes and towards the other side. I followed him hastily, my heart was pounding ferociously within my chest, and my body was quivering with anxiety. But there seemed to be nothing that I could do now. He would have already found the small creature.

I emerged into the tiny clearing on the other side. The Boy was knelt beside the broken animal, and the glare I received from him made my muscles lock up and refuse to move. That look… it reminded me of the first time I saw him. There was hatred and anger in there, and I wondered where the cheerful, funny and easy going boy had disappeared to so quickly.

"_This _is Bluebell," He said in a voice that could match my Father's for how intimidating it was, indicating towards the dog without taking his viewing orbs off me. I gulped. His eyes were piercing as there bore into my own, staring into my soul as I had tried to observe his, but I, unlike him, couldn't have looked away for the life of me. He had me locked in his gaze, all of me, I was entirely immobile. But what I hated the most about his glower was the fact that it was _him_ that was looking at me in this way. Anyone else I could accept without a care, but this glare made me actually feel something. Sadness. Shame. Anger at myself.

Fear.

"**What the **_**hell **_**did you do to her?"**

* * *

**End of Chapter Three (Part I/II).**

Just thought I'd leave a small cliffy for you guys :) because I'm so nice like that.  
Chyeah.  
And by the way, merry Christmas everyone, and a happy new year! Make it a holiday worthwhile.  
Good, good.  
I get up at like, noon at the moment, and go to sleep at past 3am. I feel like this holidays whooshing by way too fast. D:

'Tis not the most pleasant feeling in the world…

I'm gonna stop doing those weird 'between chapter things' I did. It gives away too much and sounds… I dunno, too … icky? Hm…

**REVIEW REPLIES**! 'Cuz you deserve them… ;)

_**FrozenFire42**_: Thank you much for the review! And cheers for telling me about the errors, too. I'm lazy. 'Nuff said. I just can't be bothered going through it most of the time… but thanks for pointing this out to me all the same! I know, it's just so amazing… heh. Jokes. I'm glad you think that it's wonderful though, made my day, that did. ^^

_**chasingfireflies**_: I could not agree with you more. Namine and Riku = total biachs. I know, people rape them all the time 'cuz they love them so ohmygod much. But Namine seems so… I don't know. Stereotypically angelic… if that's the word for it. And Riku. Holy smackaroly. Fangirls galore. Kill me now please. You had BETTER update soon, I read Shadows of Reality and Krystal Lily Potter says that she's read a part of it on your review and really wants that darn chapter up too… get your uberly complex and confusing chapter on this website. Would please a lot of people, that would :) Long update, I know, so sue me, I think to plan these things out. But you just take WAY too long…. And I hope your buddy gets well soon :) and I know it ain't a good feeling to worry about them, trust me… I know. I've got a suicidal friend, think of me D: cutting, smoking, and shizz… meh. Okay, long reply, but still… oh, and thanks for the review blahblahblah!

_**crystalnami**_: yes, they ARE long, that is totally intended :P xD and yupyup, short chapters are SO annoying, every five minutes you sit there waiting for your incredibly slow internet to load up the next chapter… well, you are in my case. O.O Yes! First proper… sorta… important meeting! Yay! And I spose you could call it a Halloween DATE… aheheh, whatever floats your boat… :) I personally see it more as a… outing together? LOL. But date is good, date is cute. Made me laugh, that did. I hate my own Namine, how bad is that? Sorry for the wait! Thankies and stuff! WHEW I'm pretty hyper for someone who's been sat down writing and reading all day… yes, I'm sad like that. But you guys love it really :) faster updates, see…?

Well… see you on the next chapter… O.O that's if my… -cough- review replies didn't scare you or anything… xD

**A **s_**toryteller**_** is I, now it ends we say **g_**oodbye**_**.**

**onlylotte.**

* * *


	5. Chapter Five: A Walk

**Full Summary:  
**_**His little light and little fire, to mess with her is to burn.  
**__From the moment that Kairi see's the boy, she feels an instant connection to him. And when she talks to him properly; her world comes alive. However, to everyone else, he quickly becomes an object of hatred and jealousy. Kairi naively tries to understand just why people despise and turn the boy down, as well as the meaning behind her motherly protection over him. But Fate is a cruel thing, for by some sick and twisted turn of it, Kairi is torn beyond repair when he suddenly has to leave.  
__Only it is when he goes that she realises that she must do what was right in her heart._

3,608 of these words were wrote on the day after I put up chapter 4 :o  
Just thought I'd mention, like… yeah… :) I felt proud, so sue me.  
'five minutes to hell' is a 'band' created by my friend, it's not _real_, but it's a name she came up with. I liked it, so I asked if I could use it. She owns. xD  
But speaking of bands… there's something I want to say after the chapter, but I'll leave you to read first.

**E**njo**y**.

* * *

"_When life throws you lemons, shut up and eat your damn lemons._"

**A **_walk of unexpected sightings.  
_**M**_onday.  
_**31st O**_ctober._

**Have you ever watched that kind of movie on TV where everything just suddenly seems to stop? Or slow down to the point where things barely seem to be moving? Those kinds** **of** slow motion action pictures, which has edited the most dramatic scenes so that they would be completely laden with frozen screens or snail-paced ones?

If so, what were they like? What was the film most focused on? What was it that was happening to the characters that made it so necessary to broaden the scenes to breaking point, to draw out the crucial event?

Have you experienced that kind of thing in actuality? Do you know what it feels like? Really, honest and truthfully? Do you know that it feels like you've just totally frozen and your body is entirely seized up, and the only thing you see and are wholly concentrated on is what truly matters at that point in time? Like when you find a loved one dead and the only thing your eyes can register is their lifeless body, or when someone shows you strong emotions – by it hatred or passion, have you ever had that? You feel like a motion picture, don't you? _This can't be right, not reality, this can't be happening to me…_ and whether those thoughts cross your mind through happiness, sadness, anger, bitterness… anything. It's always what you think, why you feel frozen in Time.

Back then, it was through surprise and panic that the thought reached me.

But this wasn't TV, however false, unnatural or illusory as it may have seemed, this was my reality. No, not _my _reality, it was everyone's reality; we all live in the same world, don't we? There's only ever _been _one reality, and any alternatives are just people trying to fool and kid themselves. Bipolar people that are wishing that things were different for them and create their own imaginary dream within their nightmarish life, somewhere to escape to, and be happy in a world that they prefer. Starvation, Rape, Robbery, Murder… it's all reality. And the sad thing is there's nothing anyone can really do about it.

In reality for me it's not the same, far from it, actually. When in films and stuff the characters are giving their full attention to whatever it is that's caused them to feel as if Time paused, for me right then, in realism, things weren't quite like that. As opposed to anything the media would tell you, back then I began to notice every little detail. Questions ran through my mind that enquired about my surroundings, wondering about the kind of things that could both pass in total view or completely unnoticed; _when did the Sun become so bright? When did the trees seem to full of life and rich with green and brown? When did the soil feel so sticky and rough against the skin of my feet? When did the sunbeams shine so radiantly in between the foliage and lighten the edges of the leaves and bark so brilliantly? When did that stick get there? What sparkled against the ground just then? _Etc, etc… I won't bore you by telling you every single thought that ran through my too observant brain.

Time never stops. Movements never slow down unless you can realistically make them do so. You can't just suddenly make yourself travel at one mile per hour if you're falling off a cliff, that's just impossible. And the only reason experiences like this are described in this ludicrous way is because to you, it would feel that way. It feels unreal and you're not quite certain anymore if it's truly happening to you or not. You hang on to every single second that passes you by, and stretch it so that it lasts you the eternity that you crave for. You… you do a lot of things; and its all in an attempt to slow reality down. Trying to fit the span of a lifetime into a few last seconds… occurrences would no doubt seem to last forever.

There are all kinds of feelings, too. There's the feeling when you can easily brush off a glare from a stranger without any care at all. There's the feeling when you can give a realistic and logical reply and be able to walk away without the feeling of guilt gnawing at your insides. There's the feeling when you simply don't give a damn about the blasted mechanical dog and the intimidating person who is asking you what you did to it, and can stare right back at the latter rather coolly, without the flutter of overwhelming panic and the feeling that you plainly can't move _one… single… muscle._

There's that, and there's also the feeling when you're the complete opposite.

I was the complete opposite.

And I can tell you without deceit that it wasn't the most… _pleasant _feeling in the world.

"What happened, Kairi?"

As much as I loved the sound of that musical voice, as it would normally caress my eardrums with tenderness, now it couldn't have been more painful to listen to; it couldn't have made me more terrified than it did then. Any voice would have been better than that normally smooth and somewhat innocent sound, now laced with an anger and a hatred that I didn't exactly deserve.

I almost wished that someone, anyone, even the guards, would see us in that forest clearing. Just so that I could be sure I would be okay. But then I hated myself for even thinking it. It was selfish. Selfish of me to want someone like that to see him. With me. In these woods. Glaring. It couldn't have looked any worse than it did right then, well, it _could_; but I'm not going to go there. The fact is – I'm out of a room that's supposedly locked, and he's with me, in these woods. He would have been arrested or maybe even more. But it was just misunderstandings. He seemed to do that a lot around me. He seemed to take me as something else, _someone _else, he seemed to be under the impression that I'd done something that he would expect someone like me to do.

Who was I, anyway? I was the president's daughter, sister of Namine and, through my twin, an acquaintance of Them.

Could I really blame him for seeing me in that way?

As much as I hated it, as much as I despised the way he was assuming I would be like my un-identical twin sister, it was inevitable. He wasn't under a very good impression of me from the start. Which made me realise, he _did _recognise me. Anything else about that specific fact, though, I was entirely oblivious to.

I just couldn't understand him, as much as I wished I could, I couldn't understand him one little bit.

It hurt. I'll tell you that. It hurt that I couldn't figure out… _him_. Everything… motives, personality… _everything_.

It hurt a lot. But I was always known to be stubborn and determined, I was never one to give up easily, and I vowed to myself I wouldn't give up trying to comprehend him.

Speaking of determination reminded my of something I did in year six… the last year of Primary School. We had this 'year six bleep test' where we had to run forwards and backwards between two parallel walls, only running when you heard the bleep, and if you didn't make it to the other side before the next bleep, you were out. I was one of the last still running, determined to keep on going. The certificate I was awarded was even practically solely because of my determination. '_Awarded to __Kairi Memoiri__. For __her enthusiastic contribution throughout the week and determination during the Year 6 Bleep Challenge.__' _See that? I even remembered exactly what it said. Sad sad me… but it _does_ prove and back up my theory, so…

"Kairi?"

I blinked. The voice had changed now, and that surprised me in a soft kind of way. The hatred, the emotion that had wounded me the most, had completely disappeared. And the anger sounded barely negligible. It was almost, but not quite, back to unconsciously whispering of a naivety. I chanced a glance at his face, but although it was clear in the relaxation of his features and slightly furrowed eyebrows, it was his eyes that told me he was sorry, for it was his previous glare that had got to me the most. But what he was sorry _about_, I couldn't fathom. He'd straightened up again, standing beside the broken dog, his body half turned towards me.

He _seemed _composed. But, as I know I've already mentioned, looks can be deceiving. Everything could be deceiving.

And I trust.

He looked concerned; regretful … even a little sadness could clearly be seen within his bright eyes. I don't think _anyone _could _not _trust somebody with such an aura of innocence about them, much less be unable to forgive them. Although I knew there were people who obviously couldn't, it still baffled me as I watched him watching me. Baffled me how somebody could _hate _him with such a passion as I'd been told.

"I'm sorry," He suddenly spoke up in that quiet voice of his, "I'm so sorry, Kairi."

"W-What for?" I was finally able to stutter. Before I gulped and took a deep breath, which I held for some time before eventually releasing it slowly. I blinked rapidly as I saw the air stream out from between my slightly parted lips like a gush of steady smoke, staring at it, almost mesmerized until it faded away. Who would have thought steam in the sunlight could look so beautiful? So many colours…. I wrapped my arms about me, hugging myself, and cursing the fact that I'd forgotten to bring out a cardigan or something again… I seemed very forgetful at the moment, or it could just be that I still hadn't adjusted to the fact that the days were becoming cold enough for you to notice and make your teeth chatter uncontrollably. Whatever the reason, they both ended the same way. I became freezing.

He tilted his head to the side, regarding me with a somewhat curious and thoughtful expression. Until he blinked, shrugged, and turned away, and then looked back at me with a lopsided smile on his lips.

"Jumping to conclusions like that, forgive me…" He cleared his throat, "I get quite paranoid in certain circumstances…"

The formality in the way he addressed these words and the actual way he chose them saddened me. Were we back there again, then?

"It's okay," I smiled, "I don't blame you for it."

He stared at me for a while, before returning my smile precisely. The hesitance, the awareness, almost but not quite embarrassment… oh, so we were all the way back _there_?

He didn't say anything, either. The smile soon left his lips as it did mine, and he crouched back down by the – sorry, by Bluebell. The name did sort of suit her as well; I thought to myself, if you see her eyes… the shade of blue on her irises is nearly the exact same as the bluebell flower.

And the silence that reigned, playing so loudly that it ruled out almost every other sound, or at least transformed them into something tranquil, it wasn't actually awkward. There wasn't any tense atmosphere that you would expect after what had just transpired between us, but it was just rather… peaceful. There was the distant rumble of morning traffic – _holy, was it really still that early? _– and the almost inaudible babble of what I took to be a nearby creek, the twitter of the birds, the restless crackly noise of leaves being twirled around in their own individual dances by the breathes of the light breeze; a light breeze that tousled my unleashed hair into its own untamed salsa, and played with his unruly spikes with but hardly any effect; a light breeze that disturbed the loose grains of soil to make them scuttle across the ground in unpredictable directions, many of them bumping into my bare feet.

I walked towards him, and although it may seem like something I shouldn't do, stupid, after what had just happened, it seemed perfectly natural for me then. And I didn't hesitate, I didn't falter or pause with uncertainty, I simply sauntered straight up to him. And even though he didn't turn to look at me, didn't acknowledge that he knew I was there even though I was sure he did, he had this way of going about it without being dismissive. A way of ignoring me without implying that he wanted me to leave him. I can't explain it… I don't even really understand it; all I know is that that was how it felt to me.

So when he crouched down, I crouched down next to him, balancing myself by resting the fingertips of my right hand atop the ground, my left hand on my knee, and looked at his face. He seemed depressed as he gazed at Bluebell, and it made me wonder about his connection towards the small creature. His sorrow affected me too, and I felt guilty, even though I knew I wasn't the reason that Bluebell was dead. My features softened when he reached out and touched Bluebell gently on the side of her small head.

"She was my best friend," He said softly, glancing at me, and I saw that his grief ran so much deeper than the surface, "You know?"

I didn't say anything. I felt obliged to not speak, to let him talk to me in his own time if he wanted to. Getting the feeling that it might take some time, I got myself more comfortable by letting my body fall towards the side, but catching myself and lowering myself towards the ground at the last moment. I didn't shift after that, not even to put my hand in my lap or something, because then he looked at me again.

"But you would, wouldn't you?" He murmured, a certain emotion in his eyes, "I mean, somebody like you…"

I had to say something to that. So I did. "What do you mean?" I asked him softly, "Somebody like me…?"

"Exactly," He sighed, looking towards the ground, "You're Somebody." The way he said it… I just knew that there was meant to be a capitalized 's' at the beginning of that word. He gave the word so much more meaning than anybody else I knew, he _gave _it meaning. True meaning. He gave the word _life_, whilst most people would only say it in passing… The Boy didn't. He seemed to see something else in it that no one that I'd come across had even considered, even me. … Especially me.

"And I'm Nobody," He smiled bitterly, slowly stroking Bluebell's ruined body, "Nobody worth thinking about, nobody worth caring about… because we don't feel, of course we don't, we don't feel _at all_. We're Nobodies, see? Nobodies can't _feel_…" He laughed without humour, taking his hand away from Bluebell and clenching it into a fist in his lap instead. And all I could do was stare at him, unable to say any words of comfort, unable to say any words at all. "Nobodies don't feel pain, so it's okay to hurt them. They don't suffer, so it's okay to torture them. They don't feel _sadness_…" It seemed he couldn't go on. His lips became a line so thin I was surprised they didn't crack with the strain, and when he looked at me, my breath caught in my throat. I could have sworn he was on the brink of tears, but then he blinked swiftly and took some deep breaths, closing his eyes as he did so.

I studied him silently, the heavy breathing, the gently rise and fall of his chest as he ceased all other movement. Concentrating, it seemed, on just breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out… and I felt remorse. Guilt, shame, sorrow, regret… all rolled up into one. Guilt for being so careless and leaving my footprints so that he followed them and discovered Bluebell as she was; shame at not being able to solace him; sorrow because _he _was in despair; and regret… well… I could have felt regret for a lot of things right then.

And then I was reaching out, and my hand gripped his shoulder in a firmness that was supportive, and he knew this too. His only reaction was for him to reopen those viewing orbs and begin to speak again in a voice so small I barely heard him, but in a way that didn't deter me.

"I loved her… and now she's gone," The last part was said in a tone that was almost flat. Deadpan. Stating the facts, but with no emotion. Except his eyes were another story.

"It was that tree," I suddenly told him, and he looked at me sharply. Surprise was evident on his features, and I removed my hand from his shoulder with a sigh somewhat reluctantly, and decided to elaborate for him. After all, it was the least I could do. But as I opened my mouth to tell him, I couldn't help but look away. The guilt was swelling within me so strongly, it was hard not to.

"A bolt of lightening struck it down, and Bluebell… she was underneath it when it fell. It was no ones fault, it just… happened," I informed him, before looking back at him solemnly, "I'm sorry."

His lip twitched. "You're sorry? I thought you just said it was no ones fault…" He pointed out, "Besides, I have a feeling that the lightening was heading to Bluebell anyway, so unless something got in the way or someone can control the weather… nothing could be done…"

"What makes you think it was heading for her?" I enquired. He looked at me incredulously, which subsided into an expression that told me he thought I was silly for asking that.

"I don't know, the fact that she's metal could help…" So I was. Now that I thought about it, it _did _sound like a rather stupid question. Of course, metal attracts lightening, why couldn't I have thought of that before opening my mouth and blurting my latest question out? He was smiling at me again. And if anything good had come out of my stupidity, it would be the fact that I seemed to have cheered him up. This smile was his most genuine yet, and it made my heart joyful to watch his face light up.

"Oh… I see," I said quickly and timidly, giggled coyly, there wasn't anything else I could think of to say. He abruptly froze, staring at me with widened eyes. I looked right back at him, confused as to what had made him suddenly tense up like that. I attempted to reach out to him again, but he unexpectedly and swiftly got to his feet, so I was left looking and feeling like a fool as my hand was still outstretched. I slowly retracted my hand as a rather annoyed expression touched my features, standing as I did so, and I took note of how he didn't meet my gaze.

"Well… perhaps I should take her to Cid, maybe he could do something… maybe not," The Boy muttered before he quickly bent down and scooped Bluebell up, cradling her in his arms.

"I'm sorry-" I began to say to him as he moved to walk past me; he stopped as he interrupted, without turning his head to meet my eyes.

"Stop saying that," He said in an amused voice, turning his head to the side slightly so that I saw the grin that graced his lips. I smiled too, although he couldn't see it, and motioned zipping my lips playfully by way of answer.

"…and thank you."

I blinked and stared at the side of his face as his cobalt orbs trained on the ground towards his left. "For what?"

"For being yourself."

I was quite taken back by his answer, shocked by what he said. Since when did he even know me? But, I guess, he meant it in a different sense. Thanking me for actually being _me_; Kairi, for showing him what I was truly like. I followed his gaze and smiled warmly.

"We're still meeting tonight, right?" I ventured to ask, my eyes flickering to study him, just wanting to secure that he was still willing to meet up as planned.

"Why shouldn't we be?" He asked sarcastically as he began to walk away, but I sensed he was still smiling; and my own smile only broadened as a response, "See you then."

I hardly noted the fact that that was the first time he ever said an actual 'goodbye' to me, and even as the thought slid into my mind I disregarded it as a meaningless fact. So this was the first time he said 'good bye', so what? It wasn't important. It wasn't anything that _meant _anything, it wasn't anything vital. I suppose, though, that _something _has changed between us for him to say it… but just what that was was completely beyond me.

I watched him walk away, watched him disappear silently, melting into the trees without a sound, and I wondered what people would say if they saw him. It surely would be a sight to see; him, in his state of grass stained clothes and dirtied skin, carrying a lifeless dog with shiny patches of 'fur' all over her body. I didn't want to speculate of the islanders' reactions, but because it was The Boy it could just pass unnoticed, daily stuff, who knows? Not me. Certainly not me. I was saddened as well when I lost sight of him, and briefly entertained the idea of going with him, but decided against it. What if They saw us? What if R.G.Y. or Namine did? It wasn't really worth the risk, no matter how much I truly wanted to accompany him, it would be so much safer for the both of us if we weren't seen together like that.

I didn't want to return back home, however. I didn't want the threat of being caught or anything, so I may as well make the most of it whilst I was out of sight and could escape easily. So it was with this thought that I began to head in the same direction as he did, only intent on going the same way just as far as the edge of these trees, and whilst he would turn right and proceed towards Town, more specifically Twyport, or at least, the outskirts of it, Cid's shop. I would turn left and travel down to the beach. My sole reason for this choice in destination was my thoughts concerning my feet; sand was much softer to walk on barefoot, so that would be where I'd go.

It just goes to show how desperate I was, I wouldn't even return to my room for shoes. The danger of things like glass on the sidewalk didn't dissuade, deter or daunt me; I simply wanted to get away.

So I did.

When I reached the edge of the trees, after a couple of minutes of battling a painful route through the dense foliage and injuring my feet on more than one account, I looked towards the right first, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before he left sight of my house. I was unfortunate, it seemed he'd already rounded the corner, so now slightly disheartened, I pivoted on my feet and headed down towards the left. Sadly, I had to pass the small trail to the front gate, and as I paused on the edge, I considered retracing my footsteps to go around the back and, therefore, take a more safer route. But then I thought about the fact that I was determined and wanted to defy Father as much as possible, I wasn't going to take the chicken way because of him, besides, if I went this way, the fact that I got away would hit him harder than if I went the back way.

So after carefully observing the front gates, and seeing the guards stationed at either side of it turn their heads towards each other to speak, I quickly took the opportunity and dashed out and on to the other side as fast as I could possibly manage. I made it with barely seconds to spare before they looked around again.

Smiling in jubilation, I paused to catch my breath, before proceeding at my own pace. It was actually quite a nice day considering there was a storm last night, exempting the fact that it was still rather chilly, if you went out into the sunshine you were pleasantly warmed. So I made it my duty as I went on my way to stick to where the Sun could reach me as much as possible, almost making a game out of it. Leaping over the shadows like children avoided stepping on the cracks, grinning to myself because I just couldn't help it. If the shaded part became too long for me to cross without touching it, I would make it a point to cross the road to the other side instead.

I know, it was childish of me, but we all have to express our inner childlike personalities at some point or other, don't we?

It's just a shame I ran into some members of a certain group of people along the way.

"Hey, Kairi! What are you, some kind of kid?"

**_--._Mon_sters _****call**_**ing**_** my **_**name**_**.--**

And this was one of those times that you curse yourself, and think you should have gone the other way.

I spun around immediately at the sound of that harsh, gruff voice. Glaring as soon as I caught sight of who it was. It was Silver and Ginger, but the one who had called out was the former. Silver turned to Ginger now as they both stopped some feet behind me as I ceased movement too, grinning.

"See, Axel? I told you she was just a simple immature child, she wasn't worth it," He told Ginger, who it was now revealed was named Axel. Not that I cared. I bristled at his words, gritting my teeth. Ginger was staring at me with an indignant expression on his stupid face, I returned with a more menacing glare, as threatening as I could muster.

"What?" I snapped back at Silver, "And you are?"

"_Ooooh, _fiery, this one, I like that in a woman," Ginger smirked with a disgusting look in his eyes; irritation now dismissed from his features, and one look at Silver told me I had incensed him. The reassurance made me smile victoriously, not unlike barely minutes ago.

The two wore the very same getup that they were attired with two days ago, which kind of amused me for some odd reason.

Of course, my own wardrobe they found very humorous also.

"What happened to your shoes, Miss Prissy? Stolen? I wouldn't be surprised, personally, the way you're dressed makes you look almost trampish," Said Ginger with a grimace at me. My eyes narrowed at him by way of response. If that wasn't lame, I didn't know what _was._ And it was stupid; too, the way I just _knew_ he was trying to assure himself that I was not to his tastes makes it clear that it was incredibly obvious. Which made me hate him even more than I already did.

"What happened to the 'sexy lady' comment you used on me two days ago?" I retorted.

"It left along with its actual meaning, I stand corrected, badly." _Insert roll of the eyes here… _which I did.

"You're not such a pretty sight yourself, you ginger prick," I said heatedly, before I turned and began to walk away again. Except nothing really changed for, of course, They only followed me, and They weren't very quiet about it either, as you would expect.

"Now that's just discrimination," Silver yelled at me, angrily. I laughed with bitter amusement as I turned my head to look back at Them.

"Because you've _never _discriminated against _anyone _have you?" I tutted and shook my head, facing forwards again as I muttered cynically, "Moron."

"What's _that _supposed to mean? _You _don't know anything!"

"As a matter of fact," I began loudly as I halted in my tracks and whirled around to face Them, causing Them to hastily come to a standstill too to avoid bumping into me. I blinked up at Them in surprised for a moment, wondering how and when They got so close, before I disregarded it to finish my sentence.

"I know more than you _ever _will."

And then I ran.

If there was something I could pride myself on in the sports department, it would be my speed. I didn't have a long stamina, regrettable, but you'd be surprised how much determination could affect something like a case when you're running away from somebody.

And I had a lot of determination. So amidst all the twists and turns in the lanes when we reached the end of the road, crested the hill, and entered the village, I lost Them somewhat easily, if I do say so myself. And when I realised this, I made my way to the beach at once, my breathing was heavy and my legs were shaky, but I didn't dare stop until I knew I would be somewhere safe.

Safe… just in what way did I mean that? There were, actually, quite a few of the villagers out wandering the dirt lanes that surrounded their randomly dotted about cottages. If I were to get in any kind of trouble involving Them, surely someone would come to my aid? Most of them were cheerful, and would wave at me as I passed, recognising me, or so I had been told countless times, for my crimson hair more than anything. It was something that wasn't seen a lot, and because the colour of my father's hair was well known, so was mine. It didn't matter to me, however, for I just returned their greetings and moved on. I was eager to arrive somewhere which wasn't so harsh to my feet, but hesitant to trespass onto the cottage's grass areas.

Yes, perhaps they would help me, these people, but the dirt paths were still rough on my feet.

Just as I approached an opening in the fencing that bordered the beach, however, I spotted a small child out in the front of the cottage to the right of the opening. And the simple sight of her made me stop and blink more than once.

She was dressed in, for want of a better word, rags. Rags that were so over-used they were bleached to a dull gray, and more torn than I could bear to describe; so much so that she was hardly covered. The injuries that stood out against her pale skin probably looked worse than they actually were, but all the same, I grimaced.

What kind of mother or carer would allow a child to get to such a state? That is, of course, assuming she _has _someone to look after her… which only led to more questions; where had she come from then? In the condition she was in, she could not possible reside within one of the cottages, surely not; the villagers are far too friendly, I can't even imagine one of them doing this to this girl. But how was I to know? The smiles and waves, it could all easily have just been a façade, and once the door was closed…

I didn't let my mind wonder further, but I couldn't just walk away; somehow, I had to help her. For because of her tattered clothes, I could effortlessly see just how thin she was, and even from a distance; she seemed so small and fragile, breakable – like glass, and nearly as transparent too. And still, she remained, in a somewhat eerie and ghostly way, beautiful. I could tell that, from by my position I could see her properly; face, eyes, hair… everything, she just hadn't noticed me. Eyes almost so dark they were nearly black, blending in with he pupils, and her hair – although matted and unkempt – was still simply decipherable as a charcoal black.

Those viewing orbs and the black tresses clashed with her pale skin almost frighteningly.

I repeat; her beauty was eerie, yet it was hard to take my own violet eyes off her.

There was a thin tree that grew almost directly on the fence, and the little girl was staring up into it with an upset expression on her oval face. When I followed her gaze, I saw what it was that she was gazing soulfully up at. It appeared her coat had somehow managed to get stuck up in the tree, and to my dismay it appeared even this garment was as frayed as the rest, and would hardly do anything to shun the cold away. The tiny girl was shivering violently, but then she seemed to become firm with resolve as she jumped to make another attempt to get it. She was unsuccessful, barely coming within metres of it, for her size was tiny, and she burst into tears.

Quickly I ran up to her, my legs nearly failing from the relief of the soft grass. Crouching down beside her, I placed my hand on her shoulder. The young girl looked up at me, startled, and stared at me with wide nero eyes. I could assume she was already terrified, both from my sudden appearance and no doubt from the simple presence of a superior looking girl, and seriously contemplated kicking myself. Even though, physically, I didn't.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," I smiled, trying to be reassuring, her lips were trembling so much, "But I saw you trying to get your coat from that tree… would you like me to help you?"

She gave no answer, merely staring at me as her eyes refused to brim, and within seconds her gaze began to grow daunting; you could easily imagine yourself staring in a black hole, for on closer inspection I saw that any spark of life was absent. Her eyes were empty, her very soul… empty. She was empty. But, what _was _emptiness?

Absence. It was the absence of something.

For this small child, everything was absent. Her very life had left her, her soul. I shivered.

Then came the sound of a door banging open, a feminine shout, footsteps, and then everything froze momentarily as I jumped up in surprise and whirled around to see a short girl stood in the doorway of the cottage. I recognised her face.

It seemed I was running into a lot of known faces today.

"Kairi?" She said in a bemused voice, clear astonishment on her pale face, lips slightly parted, her chocolate eyes suffering a wide range of emotions. Shock, happiness, despair, terror, anger, calm, happiness… the latter she expressed with a huge smile plastered on her lips, as she raised an arm to wave excitedly towards me, as if I hadn't already noticed her. But I was still trying to comprehend just what her soul had just been saying, it's only now that I look back that I can easily dissect that look and pull all those different vibes out, but back then… I wasn't so lucky, and way too unprepared.

For a second, I compared this older girl to the little girl I had just spoken to. They looked… like relatives. But the older one told me she only lived with her brother and mother, so how does that work?

As she cannon balled into me, winding me as if she _was _what the action says, I stumbled backwards first from the impact; and then I decided to shrug off the pause in which her viewing orbs had spoken, stuttering out the one word, "Y-Yuffie?"

All things considered, looking at our reactions towards each other now, you may be thinking _we_ acted like long lost relations or something, I know that's what it sounds like. But the freezing and the stumbling over words… it isn't like _that_, I was merely startled by the abrupt sight of her, totally unsuspecting and just simply unready to cope with it; I thought she'd be mad at first, that's why I became immobile, dreading what she would say. And even though her response towards seeing me seemed rather positive, I couldn't help but wonder, more because of my previous thoughts than anything, if it was some kind of façade, however small. Hadn't she looked, back then, angry, even if it was just for a second? Out of everything her eyes said, that was what stood out the most to me. So, of course, I was cautious.

"Hey!" Yuffie squealed, standing back and releasing me to look at my face and, undoubtedly, see my reaction, still smiling broadly.

"H-Hi…" I trailed off; staring at her, she didn't look angry anymore… and that included her eyes, her soul. After a couple of seconds, I settled on the fact that I'd purely been seeing things. I returned her smile.

"How are you?" She enquired, clapping her hands together elatedly, I raised an eyebrow.

"Fine…" I replied quietly, carefully, "You?"

"Just great!" She looked at my face, beaming, before she seemed to see something in my expression and she visibly deflated, crossing her arms as she rolled her eyes. "_Relax, _Kairi, you look as if you're walking on eggshells, or like you think a bombs going to go off, or something," She laughed, but I knew it was more of an effort to lighten the obvious tension she felt in the air.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked her, tentatively, eyeing her warily, not sure if I wanted to know the answer. Her laughter ceased, and her eyebrows rose so high when she looked at me I thought they'd disappear into her hair.

"Angry?" Yuffie echoed, perplexed. "Why should I be angry?"

Clearly, it seems by her reaction I was seriously mistaken. "Well… I just kinda left and… stuff…" I trailed off as she continued to stare at me funnily, glancing away, "Never mind…"

"You thought I'd blow your head off just because you left without saying goodbye or something like that," She deadpanned.

"Well, yeah," I was starting to feel sheepish, I knew now it had been childish, but I'd been curious as to how she felt towards me now, like her tight embrace hadn't cleared a thing up, still… "You sorta just… didn't back me up and, well… I thought you didn't approve what I did and the likes… yeah…"

The last word left my mouth for she gave no reply, and it was more to signify that I'd finished speaking more than anything. Yuffie blinked at me for a moment, which suddenly grew rapid until she sighed and looked away, mumbling, "I think we need to talk, Kairi, but I was heading over to the usual spot on the beach soon, may as well go now… Wanna come along?"

"If that's okay…" I was hesitant. Did I really want to know what she had to say? But then, I guessed I did, _and_ I didn't. Weird, I know, but I'm sure you'd have felt that way at least once in your past too. You have your reasons for wanting to know, and your reasons to not. So I suppose, really, it wasn't that strange at all.

"Now, if I didn't think it was okay, I wouldn't ask you, would I, silly?" She giggled, shoving against my shoulder lightly, I was hardly fazed, "I'll just tell Leon, Mum's at work…" She began to mutter incoherently to herself and she turned around and ambled carelessly back over to the cottage doors, upon arrival she grabbed the frame with her hands, holding onto it as she leant her body forwards and started hollering for her brother, "Leon! Hey, _Squall_! SQUALL!"

"Don't you_ dare _call me _Squall_!" A deep masculine voice shouted with irritation from within, a boy abruptly emerged right in front of Yuffie. She reeled back with quick reflexes, clearly obtained from training for her crazy ambition to become a ninja, and I think she would have done a back flip or something, but instead she didn't. She just back-tracked back out of the doorway and smiled up at him innocently. Her brother, Leon (or Squall?) had shoulder length-ish brown hair, and even though the distance was too great to tell the colour of his eyes, the scar on his face almost shone with a crimson glow against his skin, standing out like a beacon in the darkness of night. He gave me a fleeting glance, probably seeing me in the corner of his vision, and the look he gave me, even for a second, sent chills that had nothing to do with the chilly wind that breezed by down my spine. There was something haunting about this guy, and I wasn't too fond of the aura he gave off.

"I'm going now, I'll catch you later," Yuffie told her brother cheerfully, "Tell Mum I'm at the usual spot with my friends if she comes back before me."

He stared at her stonily, blinking slowly. He shrugged. "Whatever." Was his response, just before he slammed the door in her grinning face.

I ran up to her, concerned as to whether she was affected by what had just transpired; and when I saw her face she was frowning, pouting at the closed door.

"Well, that was rude," She remarked, eyebrows quirked almost with amusement. She looked at me. "Shall we go?"

"We sha-" I began to reply before a movement in the corner of my eye caused me to freeze, in advance to glancing around to seek what it was. I was shocked when I saw it was the ragged coat, still up there in the tree, and now threatening to be carried off with the wind by how it was flapping wildly with the renewed gust of air. For a while I simply gazed at it, and my gaze turned solemn. I'd forgotten all about that little girl, and the shame this thought brought me, as I studied the worn out coat, must have shown on my face.

"Is something wrong, Kairi?" My raven haired friend piped up from my side, and I looked at her, saddened.

"Where'd that little girl go?" I enquired softly, mortified with myself for the second time that day.

She blinked at me, glanced around, at me, to the coat, to her left, and me, "Beats me." She finally said with a shrug, as if she didn't care, before she began to walk towards the opening to the beach.

"Wait!" I called after her; she stopped and turned around, "Don't you think we should get it down?"

"What for?" Yuffie asked me, "Why should we?"

"To help her," I was surprised by her response to my suggestion, was she really that cold hearted? "She couldn't reach it. Could she? So-"

"But how would we return it to her?" She further enquired, smartly. But I had an answer to that.

"We don't. We'll leave it on the ground for her, and I'm sure she'll come back for it."

Yuffie opened her mouth as if to answer back to that, but then she closed it again with a jerk. Either she couldn't find a response to that, or she simply just didn't see the point in arguing the point further. Seemingly decided to get it over with, she sighed heavily and pivoted on her foot, heading to the tree. I headed towards it too, wondering whether there was anything I could do to help. But I wasn't needed, Yuffie leaped up onto the tree, grabbing a branch as she placed her feet firmly against its trunk. I began to grow fearful that the tree would snap with the strain of holding her up, even as light as she seemed, but Yuffie had grabbed the coat and was down on the ground again before the tree had hardly tilted, and before I arrived.

I blinked. Yuffie sighed, and folded the coat up roughly before placing it on the grass at the base of the tree.

"Now?" she prompted, looking at me expectantly. I gave a funny movement between a shrug and a nod, and she quirked an eyebrow at me again before turning for the beach, I jogged up to her side, falling into step beside her as her shoes and my feet were met with sand. I smiled because of the latter, and we proceeded down towards the sea, the water lapping on the sand almost hungrily, devouring the land, destroying it, one bit at a time. And it made me wonder how land remained with the presence of the ocean, with every retreating wave another small bit of land will be taken along for the ride, but did the sea ever return it? It must do, I told myself, otherwise we wouldn't be here anymore.

But then, how were we even here to begin with?

I decided to strike up a conversation before my mind could wander with possible answers for such an impossible question.

"What's up with your brother?" It was the first thing that came to mind, the way he looked at her, his general aura, the way he looked at me, and slammed the door in her face. I wondered.

"Oh, him?" She replied airily, as a wave rolled in and our feet were bathed with cold water, she kicked her foot up a little, splashing a bit as she continued, "Nothing, he's always been like that."

I thought that was a little strange, how could such a dark appearing boy like him and a bubbly girl like her ever be siblings? "Why'd you call him Squall?"

She laughed. "It's his real name, but he changed it to Leon when his girlfriend, Rinoa, died." The information didn't seem to affect her, but she was most probably used to it, if it ever affected her at all. However, it surprised me.

"He changed his name because his girlfriend died?" I asked in disbelief, looking at her with an inquisitive expression as the wind blew, and I shivered.

"Couldn't live with being who he was at the time, so he changed his identity to try and start over or something…" She shrugged, shoving her hands in her short pockets as she kicked again, "I don't know, he never really talked to me. Mum just let him get on with it."

"Oh…" I murmured. I thought it was a little over dramatic, to change your name because your girlfriend died. But then, how could I judge him like that? I didn't know him, not the way Rinoa had died, and I'd never been in love. How could I say anything, really? Silence fell, but it wasn't exactly awkward, even if I wasn't very comfortable, it was tolerable. Except I suddenly remembered something, and I looked up from the fresh wave of water that had tickled at my feet before turning to my friend, it was one of those times that I could also sense that my eyes were alight, and I know what it was with. Curiosity.

"So, what was it we needed to talk about?"

"Eh?" She blinked at me, clueless, I laughed softly.

"You said that we needed to talk…" I pointed out, smiling crookedly with amusement.

"Oh! Right, that… well, you see…" She swallowed visibly as all traces of any enthusiasm left her voice. She abruptly didn't look quite so composed, in fact, she almost looked _scared_. I stared at her as she looked down, seemingly nervously, and I frowned, but decided not to say anything else. She'll carry on in her own time, I said to myself, and I looked away, trying my best not to pressure what appeared to be a daunting subject. "You said that we didn't… help… because we didn't exactly approve or something?"

That was after a two minute pause. "Yep," I replied, nevertheless, waiting for the next bit, and wondering how long it would take her this time. I then wondered why it was a touchy subject, but kept my mouth close.

"Well, as a matter of fact, Olette was kinda…" She hesitated, scowling at the gull that landed some way in front of us, "As you would have it, 'disapproving'." She sighed heavily, glancing at me to see how I'd react, almost afraid. I only saw this out of the corner of my eye; I was busy staring at the wet sand beneath my feet in thought. So Olette wasn't very happy with me, then? She _hadn't _wanted me to help him, after all… just as I had assumed. And I remembered about the pad, and Olette's picture… with the big, angry, and blood red cross that ran straight through it. Did the cross mean something more than a mere marking? 'End', did something bad happy to their relationship? I looked up at Yuffie, and she seemed relieved that I wasn't annoyed with what she'd just said.

But, the truth was, I _was _annoyed, I just didn't show it to Yuffie. I was annoyed at Olette, and if anyone was going to see my true emotions, it would be the green eyed brunette. And all I could say was that it wouldn't be a particularly pleasant confrontation. However, I was undecided; did I really want to start an argument with Olette? To argue with her on the second day that I see her, assuming that she _is _at the 'usual spot', wouldn't give much hope for a repaired friendship or anything. And I liked Olette; she just angered me by the way she was against The Boy at the moment.

My gaze at Yuffie was calm, yet unwavering, and I think she noticed this. "Why?" I enquired, evenly.

"Why?" She muttered to herself, "Why, why, why, why, _why_," She sighed again, looking at me with something that looked like mock irritation, considering the smile that curved her lips, "How did I know you'd ask that?" She said sarcastically, "Truth is, Kairi … it's a long, sad and complicated story."

"I'm sure I-"

"And it's not mine to tell," She finished plainly. My mouth snapped shut, but this time, I was incensed at her too, "I think I already said too much." She admitted quietly, more to herself than me, digging her foot into the sand before dragging it back out vertically, the sand curved a sloppy arch through the air the land with a plop in the water further away from shore.

It seemed to me that she thought I didn't know anything about Olette and The Boy, but I did now something; the pad. Something I'm sure not even Olette knows about. With this thought, I considered telling Yuffie about the sketchpad and the picture of Olette Mitsuki, and decided against it. The pad was a part of The Boy, and no one else was supposed to have actually seen it, it was an accident that I did. So if he wants it to stay a secret, I guessed I could do that for him, and keep my mouth shut.

But my interest wasn't yet quenched. "Did something happen between them?"

She cocked her head in thought, debating more whether or not to tell me, I believed, than actually thinking over her answer. "…yes, something did happen, Kairi, and now we…" She took a deep breath, "We have nothing to do with him." Her voice was firm, she was trying to end the conversation, but I wasn't deterred.

_I want to understand._

"What did he do?"

"He scared her. And when Olette confined in me, I was scared too, and I wasn't even there." She told me, reluctantly.

"What _happened_?" I pressed.

"Can't say, Kairi, I'm sorry. But… I'll say this," She didn't sound sorry at all, but I supposed she wasn't going to say anything else… besides what she was about to, that is. She stopped, and because she did, I halted in my tracks too. Yuffie leaned across to whisper into my ear, although I was pretty certain no one would have heard except for me, anyway. I guess it was to add dramatic effect, and I listened eagerly, "Stay away from him." She stated, drawing away to look at me sternly. "Trust me; you'll thank me later if you do."

I gulped hard, my throat was dry, and my _mouth _was dry too. 'Stay away from him'? What made her say that? And even if I wanted to, I knew I couldn't follow her advice immediately, because I was meeting up with The Boy tonight, I'd said I would, and I always kept my word. And even though Yuffie had just said those words to me… I wasn't discouraged with my decision at all, if anything, I was more determined to see him. But I did wonder what made her say that; warning? Jealousy? It could be anything; yet, it could be nothing at all. It could be meaningless. She might just be saying that, I wasn't to know, was I?

"If Olette knew him," I started slowly, but Yuffie interrupted me suddenly to tell me we had to turn off the beach here. Reluctantly, I'll admit – the sand was soft, I followed her back up the beach and towards the fence again, where another opening awaited us. Yuffie stepped through, with me not far behind, and continued in the same direction we had been walking in on the beach, except I noticed we were entering the woods now. The trees engulfing us, but things remained bright for the fact that this part of the woods wasn't densely populated with foliage. And the path was tilting upwards slightly, like a ramp, and I thought we were ascending a hill of some sorts, and I wondered why we'd left the beach, if the destination was the latter. But I dismissed the confusion of the thought, and caught up to her again to finish my sentence. "Then she'd know his name, right? He does have one, I'm supposing."

"I don't know," She looked at me with a small frown, "I don't think Olette does, either, when she spoke of him she always referred to him as 'Sky'."

"Sky?" My eyebrows rose.

"He wouldn't tell her what his real name was."

"I wonder why…" I mused to myself softly, almost missing her glance at me.

"We all do, Kairi, we all do…" She tittered faintly. We kept on walking along the forest path, and my feet were missing the haven of sand, which meant that I did too. I hoped we were arriving at the 'usual spot' soon, and I amused myself with the thought that somebody had discovered my absence; would my family be worried? Did they even care? Would Father just shrug and say, 'she'll come back, and when she does, she'll be receiving the punishment of her life.'? But I wasn't afraid by this contemplation, it would be worth it. It would be worth whatever he had in store for me, just as long as I got away for a few hours. However, I was slightly concerned about tonight, if I went home to an angry Father or enraged servants or maids, would they make sure I couldn't leave for when I needed to meet The Boy? I frowned with anxiety, I sure hoped not.

"Kairi."

I started at the sound of Yuffie's voice, and turned to her questioningly. The look I was met with worried me, she was staring with such narrowed eyes and fierceness I nearly faltered in my steps.

"Kairi, promise me you'll stay away from him, okay? Don't talk to him or anything… avoid him, whatever, just don't… just don't make contact with him in any way," She paused, her features softening by the disturbed look on my face. "Okay?" She prompted.

"Sure thing, Yuffie, sure thing…" I finally managed in a quiet whisper, suddenly feeling guilty, but being able to at least offer a small smile.

"Promise me," She insisted.

I had to force myself; it was hard; for I knew I wouldn't keep it. "I promise…" My throat became too tight for more words. So I stopped speaking. She beamed at me so much it made me wonder just why she wanted me to avoid him.

"Thank you, Kairi, that makes me feel so much better… I know I can trust you," _Then you thought wrong_, I sighed. But no longer felt ashamed for meeting with The Boy and conversing with him, it wasn't like she was my mother or anything. Even if she was just looking out for me… well, whatever; I didn't want to break her trust, so I'll just not be seen with him, it would be safer that way anyway, a lot of people seemed to have something against him.

But why? I moaned to myself, why do they hate him so much? Why are they so against him? He didn't seem that different… and even if he was, we are all humans. Nobodies… Somebodies… was the world even divided like that? And if so, who decided that anyway? We _all _had thoughts and feelings, despite what The Boy said we _all _have emotions and a mind, a personality, a life story.

You just have to take the time to read it.

By the looks of things, everyone just seems to have thrown The Boy's right into the bin, after one glance at it. They had judged his book by his cover.

It seems they've all lost their chance to know him, and maybe Olette hung on for a little while, but decided he wasn't worth keeping as well, and perhaps she read a small segment too, but that life story would be well on its way to the land fill site by now, where room for The Boy seemed to be running out.

But I still had it; his life story, it was still clutched in my hands. I hadn't given up on him yet, and I didn't plan to for a long time. What I did plan, however, was to know and understand as much as I could.

"The usual spot's just down there," Yuffie suddenly piped up, throwing an arm out in front of me to stop me from walking, and it was successful. I bumped right into it, she laughed as I simply huffed and looked over at where her gaze had been directed before.

I was looking through a hole in a weatherworn wall, a wall that seemed so crumbly it was just about ready to collapse. Beyond the hole was a set of steps that turned left directly after you emerged through the hole, so that they seemed to be sticking to the wall as they went down. I was looking out over a huge cove, with my hands clutching at the rusted railing; I glanced down at where the steps soon ended, to be replaced by a steep slope of sand littered with rocks and seaweed of all shapes and sizes. There was a small building off to the side, the terrain obviously having been flattened for it, along with the tables dotted around outside for it, there even a railing because of how steep the ground became around it. There was a hole on its front, and I guessed it was somewhere which sold refreshments for who went there.

Done at the bottom next to the sea, sat a group of teenagers, threw of which sported familiar hair-does.

I smiled.

"Race you!" Yuffie suddenly exclaimed, immediately making for the steps.

I laughed, soon chasing her as I proclaimed my answer loudly, "You're on!"

I was quick to catch up with her, regardless of my bare feet pounding painfully on the concrete steps, I willed myself faster. And as soon as my feet touched the sand, I was a blur, speeding down the slope of the beach whilst dodging anything that would hinder me, my speed not only increasing because I could run fast, but also because of the tilt of the terrain; gravity was taking its toll. Soon I tripped over my feet and went flying, experienced in this kind of thing; I curled my body appropriately so that when I hit the ground, I rolled. But as I attempted to stand right after rolling, the momentum sent me straight back down, and this time I rolled side ways all the rest of the way. I heard shouts, and laughter, but I wasn't embarrassed. I laughed too.

When I eventually came to a stand still, I was breathless, and I listened to the sound of footsteps as they approached, accompanied with the laughter of both new and old voices.

"Nice of you to roll by, Kairi!" That was Hayner, and as soon as he finished speaking, he was overcome with uncontrollable chuckles again; I could hear Wakka with his Jamaican accented chortle, and even Yuffie's, along with two new ones that I couldn't place at all. I rolled over onto my back, pushing myself up as I giggled and looked around, seeking the whereabouts of my companions, and the identity of the two unfamiliar ones.

One had black hair, which I supposed could have been long if it wasn't brought up into a ridiculously pineapple looking style. His eyes were hidden, closed because of his laughter. They boy was chubby, with a red coat on as well as baggy dark jeans.

The other was a spiky haired blonde, with twinkling sapphire blue orbs as he smiled brightly. He was attired in an unzipped light blue jacket that I could have sworn was sport related, with a black shirt underneath that appeared to be for the band 'five seconds to hell'. His jeans were lighter than the other ones'.

Both were bare footed.

And as I opened my mouth to speak, another voice rang out, a feminine one I didn't recognise, and it spoke before I could even utter a sound.

"For _Amahime's _sake! Can you guys at least _act _like you care!? They've scared poor Olette, and yet all you can do is laugh because _she _rolled down the hill!"

Laughter ceased, including my own. And now my eyes flickered around, urgently trying to find who had spoken and, of course, Olette. 'They' had been said in a way that I had come to realise referred to Them, the group of people I already couldn't seem to stand. And They always meant trouble.

My violet viewing orbs were met with two shimmering and bloodshot emerald ones, and in that moment my emotions flared in anger. And all thought of any kind of argument with the brunette quickly scattered almost unnoticed.

**They'd reduced Olette to tears.**

**End of Chapter Three (Part II/III).**

Why do I get the feeling this is going to be a pre-e-etty long story?  
So much is going to happen, and I'm doing six chapters on three days… of course, it will skip sometimes but still…

I hope you guys don't mind long stories… O.O

**REVIEW REPLIES!**

_**FrozenFire42**_: I love sleeping too! :D! My favourite past time… asides eating, reading, writing, and yeah… you get the drift. But I don't even exactly SLEEP, I just lie there like, yerrrrr this is great. And visualize scenes for my story (Normally this one) because I'm just so cool like that. And when I'm awake I don't even go downstairs, I just hop right onto the internet or whatever it is I'm having a fleeting craze over. Tis great. I don't mind it if you read the other replies, I do that all the time, sometimes even if I didn't review I read them. I am so nosey, no wonder my nose seems big to me. Yes, Namine is a bish, and I do not like her all that much, even though its okay because she's not stereotypically angelic anymore. Major improvement. I don't even like Riku all that much; I don't understand why they love him so much. His silver hair makes him seem older than he should – no offense to those who care… Sora owns. He is the sex, in a CUTE way.

_**chasingfireflies**_: first things first; I call dibs on beating Kairi's dad up! I should do the honours! … It's only fair… :) And I saw that you'd _finally _got that chapter up! I was so shocked and happy that I _actually _reviewed! Feel proud. And share in my happiness. xD. That is an extremely long list of excuses, how long did it take you to come up with them? :P only joking, only joking… I believe you. Writers block just sucks monkey balls, and I had a short momentary craze over my sister's Wii too, I know how you feel. Ish. I agree, sleep is win. But I have to admit I don't think I do it _quite _as much as you do… I went to my mum's best friends' house with my family for New Years Eve; unlike you (apparently) I HAVE a life. I think. Or perhaps not. But I did celebrate. I remember the time my mum tried to kiss my cousin's boyfriend on the lips and did a conga down the street. Rob is now mentally disturbed. Good times, yep, good times… you now have no reason to beat up poor Sora, so I suggest you lower your old guitar and put it safely back where it belongs before someone gets hurt, okay? _Okay_? Good girl (I think – or boy?) and I'm sorry I took quite a while. But my internet at my old mans failed, literally, so it had to wait on extra week… yes, that is your cue to lower the old guitar again. My excuse is 100% true!

_**crystalnami**_: Like I've already said (somewhere) I hate my own Namine. Translation: she is a total byotch, alright. xD. And their father is just very VERY strict, and used to getting his own way and always being in control. I know I created him, but it doesn't mean I have to like him either. Bleh! And I'm glad you liked the chapter ^^. I hope this one was just as good… yepyep, Sora rescuing Kairi is a very good thing, but you can not really blame him for being angry and stuff after reading this chapter. At least, I think you can't. Considering he was close to Bluebell (as close as you can get to a dog), I think he had a right to be. But that's just me. Sorry it's been quite a while since I updated, but life happens, Time passes (when does it never?) and internets fail. Including my own. And yes, that is my excuse.

I'm thinking about changing my name, just so you know in case you find me via my name, fanfiction thinks its some kind of E-Mail address so I can't even say it properly. … Any ideas? :)

**A **s_**toryteller**_** is I, now it ends we say **g_**oodbye**_**.**

**Onlylotte.**


	6. Chapter Six: A Date?

**Full Summary:  
_His little light and little fire, to mess with her is to burn.  
_**_From the moment that Kairi see's the boy, she feels an instant connection to him. And when she talks to him properly; her world comes alive. However, to everyone else, he quickly becomes an object of hatred and jealousy. Kairi naively tries to understand just why people despise and turn the boy down, as well as the meaning behind her motherly protection over him. But Fate is a cruel thing, for by some sick and twisted turn of it, Kairi is torn beyond repair when he suddenly has to leave.  
Only it is when he goes that she realises that she must do what was right in her heart._

I'm sorry if anything in this chapter upsets you at all. But the beliefs that are portrayed later in the chapter are my own, but if it offends you, I'll say again – I'm sorry, really! It's a necessary part of Kairi's character you need to know… so…

I'm extremeuberly sorry for the lateness of this chapter! It's just, something about it didn't seem right… a bit anti-climatic, maybe. I've been re-reading it so many times it's hard to believe I'm still the only one that has! It still doesn't feel just right… but I feel it's been too long, so. I know if I'd been reading it I would have been looking forward to the Halloween outing thing, because I guess I'm some sort of sappy hopeless romantic at heart or something (god help me!) like that, but it doesn't really seem all that great… I might run over a bit into the next chapter, but I had to stop because it just seemed like the right place to, you know? And the word count is… pretty high…

I apologise if it doesn't meet your expectations… but I think there's some fluff in there! And now, as I say this, I really do mean it:

**E**njo**y**.

* * *

"_It's unhealthy to bottle up your feelings inside, sometimes you've gotta just let it all out…_"

**A**_… date? of gentle words.  
_**M**_onday.  
_**31****st**** O**_ctober._

:::::::

**You're reading this. Of course you are. But you're reading this, and you're probably thinking – _is this some kind of blow by blow account_? _Do we really need to know _**_**what** __happens__ every… freaking… second, of your life_? _Is this completely necessary_? And all I can say is – no, this isn't a blow by blow account… not every second… and necessary? I'm just telling you what happened -that's what I'm doing. I wanted to write it, I wanted to give my sadness some life, is that such a crime? I'm just writing here. I'm putting pen to paper and I'm pouring my heart through it, my soul, my mind, my thoughts, my feelings… all there. Pouring. But no, not pouring, not merely _pouring_, it's bucketing and hammering and heavy and torrential and… wet. My tears – wet.

And there are plenty of them too.

They're on my cheeks and my hands and in my hair… and the paper. It's not easy, you know, remembering something like this. And I know I've hardly started – god, this is nothing, really. What's there? Just three days… not even that. I've not even got to the… the other parts, the parts that I have an excuse to cry over. Perhaps… perhaps I'm just too emotional. The very thought of… him, and that's it. I'm down, switched on those damn waterworks… fetch the tissues please…

But that's not exactly true. I'm not even much of an emotional person to begin with. I can remember times… times when I was younger and happier and loved and it was easy to smile… times when I had a mummy and a daddy that cared… and a sister. Namine and me – we did everything together. You could have attached us at the hip; it wouldn't have made a difference. She wasn't always like she is now. She was never an angel, but she was never a tart either. She loved me back then. And we would read stories together, watch films, read books… articles from daddy's newspaper. Sad story? She's down, switched on those damn waterworks… fetch the tissues please… and me? Completely dry eyed, completely dry… not a single tear.

I'd wondered if there was something wrong with me. But there isn't – it's just me, I didn't cry at stories. Sure, bad things happened, they always do, but it never affected _me_, I wasn't harmed at all, why cry about it? Most of it was fictional, anyway, but if you gave Namine a story with a sad ending, you needed to brace yourself against the flood of tears. Me? Nothing. No sweat, no tears, no worries. Awww, poor them, that's horrible… next.

I guess it's kinda like blood. If you don't faint at the sight of it, that is. You could watch someone bleeding right in front of you and, yeah, you feel pity, and it's not exactly a pretty sight, but you're okay. But if you cut yourself, you see your blood, and your reaction's not quite the same, is it? It wasn't the sight of_ blood _that you didn't like; it was just the sight of your own that was so depressing. Yeah, it's sorta like that, in a weird and slightly demented way. Other people, other happenings, other stories… yeah? You just move on, why shouldn't you? But then, if it happens to you, if it happens to someone you care for…

You're not quite so dry eyed.

I'm not even sure about what I'm saying. Maybe I'm just rambling now, just pouring… yeah, just pouring all those things through that pen onto that paper. Telling my story. Crying my story.

It's not the same.

I think of him now, and every time it's the same; I feel so confused. I close my eyes and I think, think about his walk and his voice and the way his laugh had made my heart sing. I think about his chocolate hair and his intense blue eyes and his sad smile…

Where are we now? I wonder. Where are _you_ now? How do you see me? Do you think of me, like I think of you? _How do I see you_, you ask me? _How do I see you…_

Good question.

You want an answer?

Don't look at me; I ain't got a fudging clue.

:::::::

Through all of that, I'm not saying anything _really _bad happened in the cove with R.G.Y. I think I began writing with the thought of just letting you know I wasn't going to describe every single minute there, but then I kinda went off on my own not-so-merry way. But hey, I do that an awful lot at the moment, it's not like it's anything new.

The day was rather simple actually, as simple as things could have been right then... just another day… another day hanging out on the beach with friends and messing about and laughing and swimming and having a good time…

_Yeah_, I thought, _things_ _would be great if they were so simple._

We'd all scrambled back to Olette's side, and the girl who had shouted at us – _can you at least _pretend_ that you care…_? Or something like that. And yeah, it was harsh and all, but I had to admit, it shut us up and got us stumbling to the rescue. The girl, that was Selphie, I'd found out. The blonde one was Tidus, and the pineapple dude was Pence, so that had cleared some things up.

Olette had been in the middle of explaining just why she was in tears to the group, but she started all over again for mine and Yuffie's benefit once we'd all settled down around her, touching her with our respected skin in soothing and calming gestures, and Selphie with her arm around the other brunette's shoulders. It had been hard for Olette to start all over again, I'd realised that, I'd seen it in the way her eyes became more painful than they already were, the deep breath, the clenched fist – and I'd appreciated that she was going to tell me, but been able to do nothing else other than grip her hand tighter. And she'd smiled at me, a sad smile, a strained one, and I'd returned it with a heavy heart.

They'd herded Olette to a dead end, somewhere where she'd had nowhere to go and no way out. The one called Riku – and when I asked – _who_? They'd described the one with the old man do, the silver hair, and the piercing aqua marine eyes. So it was _Silver _who had shoved her up against the wall, _Silver _who had put a knife to her throat, and _Silver _who had spat in her face as he'd threatened and blackmailed her into… into…

That was the point where Olette paused, and everyone else had suddenly gone quiet. And don't get me wrong, they'd been quiet before, listening intently to it all again, but when Olette had stuttered to a verbal halt the silence had changed. I don't know what it was… yeah, I do. There was a sudden tenseness in the air, a reluctance to go on, and because all of them seemed to share in it, I'd felt like the odd one out. Like when there's a secret whispering through the air and you're the only one who doesn't know it, you're the only one who hasn't been told… yeah, that's how it'd felt. Even Yuffie seemed to know what was coming, but I was clueless. And by the way they'd all looked at me with a sort of painfulness in their eyes, I knew it couldn't have been good, and it had something to do with me.

"What?" I'd asked, or croaked would be a better way to describe it, "What did they want you to do?"

You could tell it by the way their eyes flickered between Olette and me, by the way they kept shifting in their places and opening their mouths as if to speak, by the way Selphie kept biting her lip and Hayner was gazing worriedly at Olette, they wanted to relieve her of the struggle of telling me, they wanted to take over. But, as if she knew this too, Olette had looked at them all and shook her head fiercely, before clearing her throat.

"They want you, Kairi," She'd said to me, her voice kind of soft with a clear hint of unwillingness, "Axel, he's wanted you ever since he saw you – and he's not going to change that, either." Deep breath. And I'd thought to myself too, _breathe, Kairi, breathe, for Amahime's _sake_… _"They wanted us to 'hand you over', like you're some kind of item or something… but don't worry!" She'd seen the look on my face, and had attempted another smile through her next words, "We won't let Them near you, I've already promised, Kairi, we'll keep you safe. I saw that glint in his eyes back at 'The Garden', I knew it then, but I never wanted to worry you…"

"Worried? Who's worried?" I'd tried to make light of the situation, but my voice came out too high. I'd got some smiles out of it, though.

"There's no point in lying to yourself, Kairi," Yuffie had said sadly, "But we _will _help you."

"So what did you say?" I'd directed my enquiry to Olette. Her lip had quivered as she met my gaze.

"You can't blame her, Kairi," Hayner had jumped in quickly, sounding as if he was _defending _Olette… which I suppose he was, but I was rather confused as to _why_. And Hayner cleared that mental question up in a jiffy. "She said what she had to so they'd lay off her, Kairi, she –"

"So she said she'd 'hand me over'?" My voice had cracked.

"No!" Olette had sounded close to hysterical, fresh tears were rolling down her pale cheeks, "It… it wasn't like that!"

A tight and loud silence had shrouded over us then, and it really felt like I was being suffocated as I stared at the brunette. I guessed I could understand her position, but I couldn't help but be at least _slightly _hurt, surely _that_ was reasonable? But as nobody continued to speak, I was suddenly not so certain that anything made sense anymore, not even anything within my own mind. And if all of Them had been there, was Namine included in that? Did she just allow it to happen, a helpless girl, threatened into 'handing over' her own sister? Did she even _care_ about me anymore?

I didn't know.

Still don't.

"We're moving school, because of Them," The one called Tidus had abruptly informed me, trying, it seemed, to change the subject. And I'd switched my violet eyes to look at him instead. He'd smiled nervously. "We're going to go Angel Falls… all of us."

There was a brief murmur of affirmation around the group. And although I'd wondered how that could even be accomplished; - for how many of them were there, really? Olette, Yuffie, Hayner, Wakka, Tidus, Pence, Selphie… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven… seven of them, all changing to the same school at the same time? –I'd disregarded it, and simple opted to accept it.

"That's where I go!" I'd announced with forced jubilation, but even so, from then on the mood had considerably lightened.

After that the day was a bit of a blur, Yuffie mentioned to Olette about how fast I was at running or something, but how poor my stamina was (it seems somewhere along the way I mentioned this to her…) and Olette had recommended the Gym to me or something to build up on it. At some point or other I received their mobile numbers – I just looked in my phone book one day and there they were, but I have no recollection of having been given them. We'd visited the rock pools back up the beach a little, and for some reason I'd found something weird in one of the pools, and of course if you think it's weird; you remember it. But I decided not to reveal it to the others; I don't know _why _I didn't tell them, I just didn't. But I found some dog hairs and something in the water that could have been a type of shampoo or something; pink and bubbly. I don't know, but it was a strange thing to see in such a natural pool.

I even heard the mournful howl of dog once or twice, but I guess it was my imagination after the hairs. Although why my mind would make it seem sombre to me, I haven't a clue.

Pence, it turned out, actually lived in the little refreshment hut in the cove, and I got some free sandwiches and a hot chocolate – even though I'd refused, Pence had practically forced the hot choc on me after discovering it was a favourite drink of mine for a cold day.

And why we were hanging around on the beach on such a said chilly day, I wouldn't know, it might have something to do with how Pence _lived _there. How the beach is always somewhere nice to be… yeah, _maybe_. Olette, Yuffie, Selphie and I had a good laugh when we jokily attempted a spot of sunbathing, and I even went paddling in the ocean for a bit, which had turned into a water fight, which had turned my clothes into sodden bits of cloth clinging to my skin, so then it'd just been a case of – _eh… what the hell, _and diving right in.

I'd suffered for it later, embarrassing comments, chattering teeth, biting winds, shivering flesh, refusing clothes from Pence's mother but accepting a towel and then blanket… But it was fun, and I enjoyed being underwater. It used to be a favourite sport of mine; swimming. I like it when I'm submerged in the liquid, the silence, the _feel _of the water, the sense of complete control; no gravity, nothing tugging at my body, no nothing. Loving how I could spin around so easily, whirling, twisting… dancing, I guess, in a sense. I like to just float there, too, just listening… just listening to the soundtrack of the underwater world. Hearing the distance roll of the waves crashing onto the shore above, even the sting of salt onto my eyes was welcomed.

And it wasn't hard to imagine myself as the last person on Earth, swimming in the last water, surrounded by the last silence, under the last wave, holding the last breath, dancing the last dance… this is how it must have been a hundred thousand years ago, I'd thought. No people, no gardens, no stereotypes, no games, no hate, no twisted hearts… just this, the seasons and the skies and the rain and the wind and the tides… things without grown spirit. Nothing to remember or want. Light. Darkness. A heartbeat. No words to think. No unnatural emotion. Nothing but cold and hunger to avoid. No tomorrow. No names, no history, nowhere to go. Nothing to do.

Nothing to do but swim.

I swam.

Yeah, there's something strangely satisfying with swimming below the surface. I could be _me, _I could _lose _myself. I could, quite simply, just get _away_ from everything for a while…

It was today that I realised how much I'd missed my swimming.

We gathered some wood from the woods and lit a small fire when dusk began to descend onto the sky, casting a soft gauze of pale pink over everything the withering sun's shine touched. It was rather breathtaking, the sunset. And it wasn't even exactly _late, _but this was winter time, the days end early in winter, don't they? And the sea was painted in that gentle blush of pink, and there wasn't anything on it but a far off container ship thing inching across the horizon. So the water was quite calm, despite the waves, it was as if even the ocean was settling down for the night.

They started to talk about Halloween, their costumes, where they were going, what they were doing… and I was quite happy to just observe and listen to this particular conversation. Selphie asked me what I was wearing… going… doing… and my silence seemed to make her realise it wasn't a question I was going to answer, so she just smiled and turned to ask Yuffie. Everyone else seemed to get the hint, and I was glad of that. The exchange was making me think, anyway, what _was _I going to wear? I didn't even know _where _I was going… and what I would _do _when I got there… but I kept my wonderings to myself. Trying to come up with something. Failing.

I began to get a fluttery sensation in my stomach. Nerves, it was. Butterflies… or moths… or flies. But it actually felt more like a hundred tiny hummingbirds were flying around in there, _hummmmmmmmmmm_ing constantly. I was feeling sick, but had no idea why. Perhaps it was the idea that I didn't know where I would be tonight, that I would be with him… maybe it was the reality of the situation catching up with me, and my body was at last reacting to the thought.

_What was it, anyway_? I'd thought to myself quietly, as Selphie was announcing proudly that she would be at _the_ competition tonight… whatever _that _was - _an outing_?_ A friendly oooh let's go here tonight_?_ He'd asked me to go with him… he'd asked me out. Wait, he was asking me out? As in, a _**date**? _He… eh_?_ Excuse me_, _Amahime, Kairi_! _You're getting _way _ahead of yourself here, girl…_

I'd laughed to myself softly, grinning like an idiot, almost, but not quite, oblivious to the stares…

_It's a thought…_

_But still… it's a thought. It's the thought that counts…_

After that, they began to discuss about some camping trip they were planning to have during the weekend, it was something they did every school holidays, apparently. And when they'd asked if I would like to go along, I'd gladly accepted. Any chance to get away from that mansion that was my home was eagerly embraced – home was even more unbearable than before. I don't exactly know what it is – but something about that place has changed since the day I reacquainted myself with the outside world. Something I didn't like, something unsettling and uncomfortable.

It wasn't long after that, considerably dryer and warm from within – both with the hot beverages and the nauseating nerves – that I said my goodbyes and left, assuring them that I could find my own way back on my own… yes, I'd be okay… yes, i was _definitely _coming this weekend… yes, you all take care too… yes, see you later…

And then I was off.

When I'd reached Yuffie's cottage, I'd glanced down at the bottom of the tree to find that the little girl's coat was gone. But whether she had come back to collect it or someone else had taken it out of spite… I didn't know. And I had no way of finding out either. I'd briskly walked on past.

It'd been quite easy to sneak back into my room unseen, and that had surprised me in a big way. It became apparent that no one had bothered to check up on me, and although I was grateful that I hadn't been found out, I still couldn't help the feeling of bitterness rising up inside of me as I'd closed the balcony door behind me and locked it again with a hairclip.

I was just in time. No, I mean, I was _just _in time. For right then the lock in the other door clicked, and I threw myself onto my bed as it inched open and a familiar looking maid popped her head around the door.

"Sir would appreciate it if you joined him and the missus for dinner," She told me in a formal manner, but her eyes showed some shred of concern as she locked gazes with me.

_This is Davies, _my brain suddenly told me, the tone and the familiarity clicking, so I smiled at her, _this one actually cares._

"It's okay," I told her, making the connotation of my words clear to her, and she seemed to relax some as she returned the smile. "But I'm not hungry." I finished.

"Are you sure?" She pressed, frowning slightly, sounding worried now.

"Absolutely."

Another smile, but this one seemed uneasy. A nod. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, nodded again, and then she slowly closed the door, locking it before retreating down the corridor.

_What good timing I have…_

I sighed, getting back up and stretching once I did so. I glanced lazily outside, and then my thoughts whirled.

I suppose it was inevitable when I thought about how I used the hairclip to lock the door that my thoughts would turn to The Boy, and as I sorted myself out – _toilet, sink, shower, new clothes, sorting out hair… _- my thoughts did. I wondered where he was now, what he was doing, whether he was okay or not, cold or not, whether he was looking forward to seeing me as I was to see him… I wondered if he'd been able to fix Bluebell, I wondered if he was angry with me or not… I wondered…

Yeah, I wondered, the usual.

I didn't _know_.

I wish I did.

So then, there I was. Lying down casually on my bed, hands behind head, one leg balanced on the other, seemingly without a care in the world. And I guess, for me, that façade would be quite easy to pull off, but I had no way of knowing if I was pulling it off successfully this time. No way to be sure at all, and, quite frankly, I couldn't have cared less at that moment.

I was adorned in another pair of boyfriends, a darker pair, and my very own 'five seconds to hell' shirt – black, with a dull beige-y skull and black ravens and crimson ribbons and red clocks and black flags and too many swirls to count – it was something I had forgotten I had, but Tidus had reminded me. With my black and grey converse, stripy fingerless gloves, black beanie, and some mascara and eyeliner (which had taken a good half an hour to get right) added in, I was quite proud of my gothic appearance. It was Halloween; after all, I could at least _look _the part a little. Why not get a little dressed up? Spice it up a bit… like a good old friend of mine from school would say, _spice it up a little, girl… show a bit of leg, a bit of belly, slap a bit of lippy on…_

God, I thought, I'll be embarrassed if I see _her_ tonight.

And yeah, she was my friend, which made me suddenly wonder… was _he _my friend yet? Or was I just an acquaintance in his startling blue eyes? Just another girl… just another Islander… just like the rest of them. Of Them. I shuddered delicately. Turning my head to gaze outside at where it was steadily getting darker, I frowned. _But I'm not_, a voice that sounded like my own whispered in the back of my mind, almost as if it was trying to be soothing… which I think it probably was, _I'm not one of Them, I'm really not… hasn't he realised that by now_? And then I sighed before answering my own question – _I hope so. _Which, as I think about it now, wasn't really much of an answer at all.

Them… and Namine, _did she even _care _about me anymore_? I didn't know, and I wondered what she would be doing tonight… would she be with Them? In the dark? Alone? But what if…

"Psh," I muttered to myself bitterly, "What do I care?"

_There's no point lying to yourself, Kairi… _

My frown deepened. I looked at the clock.

Nearly time to go… I thought, somewhat relieved, smiling slightly at the glowing digits, nearly time to get up and go out into the cold… to unlock that door with a hairclip again and…

I froze. My body tried to gasp, but I'd frozen up, and I chocked on the air.

Them… Namine… unlock… door… hairclip…

_But you know me now, and sometimes, I wondered… What does she do in there?_

Do in there… what _does _she do in there? Namine _always _locks her door. Well, most of the time, anyway. Last time I went there seemed to be one of the off chance times that I came about when the door was adjured. However, all in all, that door was forever bolted up tight – especially when she wasn't in her room at the time… so what does it mean? It could mean nothing, of course, but if she's out at the moment… and she will be for quite a while longer… would it really hurt to try…?

I was speechless – and slightly sickened with myself, come to think of it.

_Where the fudging hell did that idea come from?_

But once it was there, like always, the notion refused to go away.

I could see myself doing it. I could see myself grabbing a hairclip and carefully scanned the corridor before I exited my room, and again becoming aware of the cost I would have to pay if I were to be discovered. I could see myself, shocked but relieved, scampering up to Namine's door _un_discovered ("_go away_") and simply slipping the hairclip into the lock, twisting it around a bit, hearing a click, opening the door, stepping inside and closing it behind me – locking it again, just to be sure. Yeah, I could see myself doing it.

As easy as one two three. Easy as pie. Done in a jiffy. I could make it sound so simple, I surprised myself.

_Would Namine do it, if she were me? Would Olette? Yuffie? Hayner? Or Pence… would the others? Would The Boy do it, if he had the chance? The chance to get some answers, to understand? Would anyone seriously ponder over something like this, something so deceitful? _

After a fleeting consideration, I decided that yes, maybe they would. And then I wondered why it should make a difference anyway – what they would have done. But then I disregarded the latter and decided that yes, maybe it would be an idea to make these visualisations become reality.

So I did.

I grabbed a hairclip and carefully scanned the corridor before I exited my room, and I _did _feel the awareness of the cost that would have to be paid, should I be discovered. I turned the corner, shocked and relieved, and scampered up to Namine's door _un_discovered ("_go away_") and simply slipped the hairclip into the lock, twisted it around a bit, heard a click, opened the door, stepped inside and closed it behind me – locking it again, just to be sure…

I did it.

And after that I was stood awkwardly in the doorway to my sisters' room with a sudden feeling that I would be totally screwed.

The reason why?

Namine had a life sized picture of herself tapped up onto the opposite wall.

I was surprised. Or maybe that's an understatement. But whatever the reaction, I can safely say that I almost wet my pants.

_Trust Namine…_

I smiled slightly despite myself and shook my head in that slow and disbelieving way. But my feet suddenly had a mind of their own and became stubborn, rebelling against my brain and refusing to move any further into the room. So as I stood there and waited for the rebellious limbs to back down, I made use of my time, and scanned the room with my eyes instead, carefully. Trying to see anything that would be out of the ordinary in the illegal sense, any reasons why she should have her room eternally locked.

There were a lot of pink and fluffy things and bunnies and playboy. A queen-sized bed, a plasma screen TV, a desk with a laptop on it that looked more expensive than an average citizens yearly wage, posters on the wall ranging from singers to actors and… a lot of things, wardrobes, chests of drawers, mirrors, makeup, clothes strewn astray, teddies…

It was the room of a spoiled brat.

Namine was a spoiled brat. So it suited her well.

My body had relaxed by the time I'd completed my scan of the room, but it was suddenly so much so that I was struggling to keep myself up – I was using the door and its handle by way of preventing myself from collapsing. Nothing was wrong in here, I tried to assure myself firmly, you've had a look, there's nothing wrong, now you can just sneak back into your own room, okay? And try not to get yourself discovered in the process. Go back, Kairi, there's nothing wrong.

And as much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn't. I didn't and still don't know why or how or anything… I just couldn't _leave _without making sure… and there was nothing else to it. I wasn't exiting through that door until I'd searched the place thoroughly. So I dragged my feet forward, and after the first step, they seemed to just take over; they wanted to get this done and over with just as much as I did. My mind just appeared to momentarily switch off, and shut down, as I crossed the room to the wardrobe furthest away from the door. My mind was sickened by what I was doing, and it didn't want to take part in it – it was reluctant. But when I reached the wardrobe and pulled the doors open I forced it to contribute, I needed to _think_, and I needed to recognise what I saw.

So it was like this, with a heavy heart, more nerves than ever, and a bitter taste in my mouth, that I began to comb through Namine's room.

As I worked my way through her draws, I felt like a traitor, a burglar, a liar, a cheat… I felt it so strongly that my hands shook, almost vibrating. And as I worked a part of my brain detached itself from the rest to observe over my feelings; my mind wandered. The bitter taste seemed familiar to me, and over it my mind puzzled. And then it clicked; the taste, it was metallic, like metal, blood, and rough and prickly against my throat. As if I'd been coughing up blood, although I knew I hadn't… and then a memory sprang forth. And I knew then that it reminded me of a time when I was forced to do cross country at school – and I still was, but more rarely – and how at the end when I stopped and began to walk around with my hands behind my head, trying to recover, the same bitter metallic taste at the back of my throat would abruptly appear as if to say – _take that! And that! _As if my body was punishing me from what I'd just forced it through. I'd cough, hacking; my eyes watered, and every time I vowed I'd never agree to do this again…

But every time we did it in class, I found myself running and tasting it again, and I wondered why they forced me through it – because, let me tell you, it _hurt_. But maybe you know that… maybe you've had that kind of experience too. Horrible, huh? You actually think you _are _coughing up blood, which isn't very pleasant, if you were wondering.

I felt like that then, shifting through her things… and my heart beat raced as if I _had _just run through a cross country route; my blood roared through my veins, pulsing warmth through me, fuelling my nerves, as if I _had _just run a mile.

It hurt, god, it hurt so _much_.

My body wasn't used to it. A simple fact, unused to it and finding it hard to cope.

And then I found it.

Second chest of drawers; the one beside her bed – the side away from the door, fourth set of draws down, the one to the right, squirreled away and wrapped up in a sock at the back of the drawer…

A thick wad of money.

I was the Presidents daughter. Namine was my sister. The President is a very rich man. So, it's not exactly an unfamiliar sight; seeing so much money. But normally I would see it with my father or mother, I would see it in their wallets, in their hands, and I would see it my own sometimes, and even Namine's. But rolled up tightly, and secured with an elastic band, and shoved into the depths of my sister's drawer? Nope. Never.

So I guess you could say I was slightly confused. There wasn't any need for it to be _there_, so why was it? Why would Namine need to hide some money like that?

I didn't know. It could mean anything, and it could mean nothing at all.

I looked back down at the sock I held in my other hand, frowning, and then I noticed that there was something else in it, something more solid and squat and square shaped-ish… I reached in. I pulled it out.

A small brown bottle of white pills.

Slowly, carefully; trying to stay calm, I replaced the money in the sock, and replaced the sock in the draw, and closed the draw before I rose to my feet, taking my time as I did so. And I stared curiously at the bottle, twisting my hand around to examine it, as I did all that… I never took my eyes off of it once. Once I'd straightened up, all I did for awhile was hold it up to the light – the labels had been ripped off, so I couldn't identify just what the pills _were_, and I prayed to god and Amahime and hell and heaven… to everything… that it wasn't what I feared it would be. I frowned at it as the light reflected off it softly, sparkling only slightly.

_What on Earth…_?

I heard a sound.

And suddenly my blood didn't feel quite so warm.

I turned my head, wide eyed, jaw slackened, to gaze at the door. And because of the way the lines in the wood ran, it looked like the thing was staring right back at me, with a cruel glint in its eye.

_You wouldn't even dare…_

_Oh yeah_?_ Just watch me…_

I watched it. Could it not see that I already couldn't take my eyes off it even if I willed myself to? And I was still staring, helpless and in despair, as I listened to the lock clicking. Silently I cursed, I cursed myself, I cursed Namine, I cursed my supposed 'good' timing, I cursed The Boy for helping to put the idea into my head… and then I just cursed. All in the space of about two seconds. _Damn me, damn you, damn that, damn you, damn, damn, DAMN…_

_Now _I was screwed.

I could see it clearly. Namine coming through, stopping at the sight of me, and then demanding through a screaming fit just 'what the bloody hell are you doing in _my _freakin' room?!'. I could see it. I could hear it. Just there, only just beyond my reach; a figment of imagination that was about to become reality. I was trapped, I was dead meat – yes, I _was _dead meat. I was the deer, and Namine was the lion who was about to amble into her territory and spot me. A stream of unfinished excuses were already playing through my mind, like on an announcement screen thing, where the writing travels across it horizontally… know what I mean? No? Well… anyway, that's what they were like. And it was as if they fizzled out before I can even see the entire thing. _I was just looking for something… I thought I heard something… I was asked to come in here…_

It would be a waste of time. She wouldn't even consider it if I told her a lion _had _just been in here when there were paws prints and bites marks and scratches all over the place whilst I stood there in a bloody mess.

This too, I thought sourly, will surely be a 'bloody mess'.

My skin felt cold.

I quietly opened the drawer, put the bottle in its sock with the money, placed it back in, then just as quietly closed it again.

After that, I couldn't move.

I stared, petrified, at the door handle.

Nothing happened for a moment. Maybe she's changed her mind, I thought. Maybe she's forgotten something, and she isn't coming in after all. Maybe she'll turn around and go back to wherever she was and everything will be alright…

**Then the handle turned and the door swung open.**

--x-x--

**I don't know what happened then. I don't know what suddenly took control of me as I stared at the door as it swung open. Perhaps it's an instinct… a survival instinct. I could** **feel** the adrenalin pumping through my body, preparing it for the evident 'fight or flight' thing, I could feel my conscious thought slipping away… and then I supposed the adrenalin took over. Fight or flight, huh? Neither appealed to me at all, so then what?

My body seemed to know what it was doing, or maybe I just hoped that. I let the instinct take over, and just hoped for the best. It was as if without my mind my body could still think for itself, and it could think quickly. Would a deer attack a lion?

Not a chance.

So my body took what it thought as the next best option; can't fight, can't run… so hide. It buckled my knees and dropped me to the floor; it stretched my arms and rolled me under the bed, as quick as anything. It was all over before I knew it – bam bam bam. And then I was staring at the underside of Namine's mattress as I listened to two laughing voices entering the room along with two pairs of footsteps that suddenly faltered. I held my breath, praying they hadn't noticed anything and hadn't seen me – _Please _please _PLEASE_ _don't let them notice I've been here…_

"Namine, What the _hell _are you doing?"

A feminine voice I didn't recognise. And I turned my head, squinting at the feet I could see that still lingered in the doorway. Hesitant, it seemed, to move. I knew which feet belonged to Namine, they were the small ones clad in red two inch high heels, pale as death. The other ones were strangers to me; bigger, in black only slightly heeled leather boots that went higher than I could see, tight on the owner's legs. One of them was tapping on the floor almost comically with impatience, had the situation been at all comical and less dangerous, I would have laughed. But this sounded like someone who wasn't to be messed with, and was used to getting what she wanted, no matter what the cost was.

"I…" I heard my sister start, then waver. The tone of her voice surprised me so much my mouth dropped open, which was okay, I suppose, because the maids hovered down here and there wasn't anything like fluff to irritate my nose or creep sneakily into my mouth. But she sounded almost… _scared_. She sounded so small and so weak… so _inferior._ I couldn't understand it at first, but then, I guessed, she was with someone who was actually above her. Someone she didn't want to get on the wrong side of. And I wondered to myself quietly who that could be as the stranger spoke again.

She said, in a clipped voice, "Yes?"

"…Never mind," Namine almost whispered.

"Right…" The voice replied near mockingly, obviously unconvinced. I heard footsteps, and with a flutter of panic, noticed how they were headed for me; they were getting louder. And a glance showed me it was the stranger, Namine hadn't taken another step. But then I calmed myself with the knowledge that they wouldn't see me unless they looked under the bed, the thing was too big, I was easily obscured from their view. And when the other girl pivoted around when she reached the bedside and sat down on it heavily, I knew I was right, and the nerves almost vanished completely. I heard a slight groan of springs and saw the depression in the mattress, as well as the _whoof _of air being squeezed out from between the girl's backside and her desired seat. Quickly and expertly, the boots were whipped off and dropped carelessly onto the floor, before the feet disappeared from my sight.

There was a brief silence. And then, the voice snapped with frustration; "For Amahime's sake, girl, spit it _out _already."

"There's nothing to spit out." Was her reply. I heard a low growl. "Sorry!" Namine added hurriedly, "I didn't mean it like _that_…" She trailed off as the unknown voice snorted.

"Okay. Fine." Another pause, and then the sudden burst of laughter made me jump so much I'm sure they must have heard _something. _But I suppose the laughing was too loud for anything to be heard over it. It shocked Namine too; I saw how her feet flinched with the movement of her body. "Oh, the look at that bitch's face was fucking priceless!" My sisters' companion howled through her mirth, dissolving into another fit.

When the stranger's hilarity had died down enough, I heard Namine giggle. But to me, it sounded forced or something. I don't know, but something about it told me it wasn't genuine. "I know!" She said easily after the pathetic attempt at a giggle subsided.

"Shivering and whimpering that a bloody baby… _god_, they're just as bad as the god damned gypsy," The last words were almost spat. And suddenly they had my full attention. I only knew of one 'gypsy'. Yuffie's words came back – _the urchin, the gyppo, the tramp… _gyppo was another word for gypsy. And with 'gypsy' they were no doubt referring to _him_. Alone, I silently seethed at the connotation to her words; not exactly at what it implied, but what it _meant_… as in, they must have cornered him at some time too, right?

My palms hurt where my nails dug into them.

"Amahime, the dirty bastard…" Namine muttered almost unenthusiastically.

"Agreed," The other said airily, seemingly not noticing Namine's lack of passion on the subject. "Hey, could you pass me that?"

"Sure." I heard Namine say, and then her feet were moving, taking her to her bedside too. I listened to the sound of her rummaging in something, and I breathed again when I came to the assumption that she wasn't digging around in _the _drawer. Because one – I didn't hear her pull it out, two – there's no scrape of fingers on wood, three – she was on the wrong side of the bed. So I soon relaxed again, even when I heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter, I was okay. Even when I heard the stranger exhaling like people do when they exhale smoke, it's a distinct sound, I was okay; I hear it all the time. So it wasn't anything _knew_, and at least it wasn't _Namine _smoking, anyway… because that was just too shameful to think about.

"Do you really think they're gonna give her up?" My sister then asked, as she stood there almost as if she didn't know what to do with herself.

"Nah, 'course they're bloody not." The other girl made it sound as if it should be obvious… which I supposed it was. Or at least, hoped it was. "But if it comes to it, we'll force the bitches – If I'm gonna have Axel, the sooner he shags her or whatever the better."

I blanched at her words. Waiting painfully for what Namine had to say to that…

"Mhm…" She mumbled. That was it – just a murmured 'Mhm' … I felt sickened. And under the mattress, I squeezed my eyes shut and clasped my hands in front of me, almost as if I was praying. But no matter how much I might take His name in vain, I didn't believe in any god. Nothing in a physical form, anyway. I believed there was _something…_ just not an old man with a white beard. And certainly no heaven or hell, I believed in ghosts and reincarnation. No… I didn't believe that there was some higher being up there… I was no religious person. But right then I suddenly found myself praying for whatever it is up there to keep Ginger away from me, as if there could be some protective shield that It could cast between me and that ginger prick. I knew that it couldn't, I didn't even believe in that kind of magic… but it never hurts to try, right? It never does any harm in hoping…

Yeah, hoping.

Not believing.

But why should something I don't have faith in help me?

"And you're okay with that?"

I snapped back to reality at the sound of that unfamiliar, yet, now familiar voice.

"What?" Namine sounded lost. And tracking back to the source of her voice, I scraped my head against the floor downwards and to the side to see her feet dangling off a chair in the corner, only just in my view. I blinked in surprise, since when did she get all the way over _there_? I suppose I missed that in the midst of my mental discussion… with whom? Myself? _First sign of insanity_,I sighed, _talking to yourself. _

"You're okay with that? I mean, she's your sister." The person laughed. _Oh, _my mind clicked, _they're still talking about me. _Well, okay then. Are you okay with the thought of Ginger raping me, Namine?

"I don't care."

Like a fist to the stomach, I felt winded and wounded. Yeah Namine, punch me, why don't you? And knowing her, she'd probably take that saying literally. _Fine_, I huffed to myself; _two can play at that game…_

"Good for you! The little bitch will get what's coming to her for doing that to Axel!" I narrowed my eyes at where I'd seen the feet disappear. What? You're gonna beat me up because I stopped him from destroying something that wasn't his? Some crazy justice… but then, what did They care? I guess, in a sense, I _had _humiliated the bastard. I'd embarrassed him both in front of his friends and, worse, his enemies. So They would want revenge… an eye for an eye. Oh yeah? Well, at the rate we're all going, we'll soon all be blind… blind as bats. Is that really what this world's coming to? Blind as bats… but at least bats have enhanced hearing. We'd be doomed without sight. Why couldn't they just forgive and forget?

Right. And why couldn't the sea stop moving?

It can't.

They can't.

_No_, I reasoned with a tight smile, _I'm the only one who's doomed here. _

"Holy, why the hell did she even _do _it, anyway?" The girl I didn't know the name of muttered, I found myself wishing Namine could address her with her name so I wouldn't have to keep thinking that… out of everything I could wish for, I was wishing I knew her name… I think I needed therapy. I laughed a little inside; _I'm _the insane one here? Maybe… For now I'll substitute her name for… Jim Bob Jane. Or Jane for short. I smiled again; yeah, Jane. Jim Bob Jane… ha! Yeah, I was slightly insane alright… or perhaps just creeped out with the whole thing... Hm… I think it's because I was creeped out. I was trying to make fun of the girl in a pathetic attempt to not feel quite so intimidated. And did it work? Nope… I had a sudden urge to laugh then, but I bit my lip to stop myself.

"Oh!" 'Jane' exclaimed abruptly, (well… she needs to be called _something_…) and I heard the springs whine in protest as she shifted on the mattress, sitting up, I guessed, "Speaking of which, this weekend, apparently, the gyppo's gonna do a bit o' summert at the old gramp's shop – and he's gonna go down Fillister Alley after he's done there. Fuu's been watching him, he'll definitely be there."

Old gramps? I raked my brains, thinking of somewhere where The Boy would do a bit of work. Did she mean… Cid? "Yeah…?" Namine sounded almost worried about where this was going. And in truth, I was too. Worried about why they should want him to go down an Alley… how they knew. And of course I was worried for his safety, that goes without saying. A nauseating twist in my stomach made sure I knew of that. Were they going to corner him like they did to Olette?

"_So…_" Jane started as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if Namine should _know _where she was going with this. I held my breath as the next words left her mouth, unable to breathe as they rolled off her tongue and rode on the airwaves before entering my ears. Even though I was expecting it, I was so shocked I was speechless. "We meet him down there, and then we'll teach him who the fucking boss around here is – Your little Kairi won't be there to help him this time." _Breathe, Kairi, breathe, for Amahime's _sake… "It's gonna be me, Axel, Riku, and you who'll meet him."

"M-Me?" My sister was scared now. I could hear it quite clearly, and all I could think right then was – _ha_! _Screw you_! … But where the second part of that came from, I didn't know. I guess it was my anger seeping into my thoughts. I was infuriated with the entire thing, just… everything. The people, the scheming, the stereotypes, the hate, the twisted hearts, the way They treated it as if it was nothing… a game, perhaps, just a laugh. Something to look forward to, something to _want _to do, something They knew They would enjoy and feel excitement about… something with grown spirit. They remembered what happened, they wanted revenge… and it was full of darkness, pure darkness… where was the light? More than one heart beat… god, _why_? Many words to think, unnatural emotions everywhere – _hate, anger, jealousy, vengeance, want _– more than cold and hunger to avoid; failure, Them. And there _was _a tomorrow, there _were _names; too many, in fact, there _was _a history, places to go, things to do…

More things to do than to just swim.

Right then, the only thing I wanted to do was to scream.

"Yeah," Jane sounded eager, "And then you can show us what you're truly made of, right?"

A pause. And I could almost see the forced smile on my sisters caked up face. "Of course."

"Have a little more enthusiasm, girl! We're gonna teach that bastard a lesson once and for all!" Another silence and a funny look; I _knew _it was there… a strange glance on a blank face. A mouth, simply, and nothing else. I didn't know the face, did I? "God, what is the _matter _with you?"

"Nothing." It didn't sound as if it was nothing, but I didn't care, I was too angry now to care. So I just closed my eyes and listened.

"Okay, fine. You be that way, see if I care."

Namine was quiet for a while. "I don't really understand."

"What?"

"I don't really understand."

"Understand what? What's there to understand?"

"I mean… the gyppo, it's not like he's exactly done anything _wrong…_" I frowned when she said that. Utterly confused… she didn't care… _I don't care_… stop acting like you do…

"He's dirty. He's a pervert. He's a gyppo; like you said, a piece of shit. And you don't let shit into your own home, do you?"

_Then get out._

Namine mumbled something unintelligible.

"_We _live here, Namine, this is _our _territory. End of story. And we want him out, get me?"

_Yeah, I get you. Now bugger off. Go away, leave me alone, go away, go away, go away… _"Yeah…"

"You had any of that stuff that Cloud brought in?"

"S'all right, a bit buzzy."

_Naughty girl, Nami, you know you shouldn't be taking drugs… _

_I don't care…_

"Axel said he was getting some more…" _Okay. Fine. See if I care… _"So… you know what you're wearing then?"

"Uh…?"

"Tonight, girl, tonight! What are you wearing?"

Movement. Footsteps. Rustling. Metal on metal. Cloth on carpet. "This."

"What the freak is _that_?"

"My outfit."

"_That_?! Dear, Amahime, woman; what the hell…?" More footsteps. Heavy footsteps. A thud. Footsteps… "You're coming with me, we are going to go and get you a new one – end of."

And just like that they left, the door slamming behind them.

For a while I just lay there. Blank. I felt empty, and void of emotions. I didn't know what to think, so I didn't think. So many voices in my head… trying to say things, think things. I closed myself down, my mind didn't want to take part in this – it was reluctant.

And this time I didn't want to force it.

_Go away, leave me alone, leave him alone, go away, go away, go away…_

_Where was the light_…?

**Don't look at me; I ain't got a fudging clue.**

--x-x--

**These moments, these experiences you have and take to be confusing and confounding, so that you lose all sense of self, they have a way of melting back into reality. And I** found that after a while, as time progressed and moved away from the moment, the experience, I guess I regained some conscious feeling of self. My sense of rationality came back, my sight returned, and I was suddenly wondering what I was doing still lying there under Namine's bed, why I hadn't taken the opportunity to escape while I had it already. I suppose I was somewhere else for a while… not exactly reality or even imagination, but in some curious state in between the worlds of realism and dreams…

I don't know where.

All I know is that wherever it was, it was peaceful. Like some kind of state of non-being, like I was floating… without thoughts and feelings, without memories and worries… but then I was brought back, my mind came crashing back home, the bird returned to its nest…

My heart felt heavy as I scrambled back to my room and sat down heavily on my own bed, with my head in my hands.

I thought; _this is turning out to be one hell of a day. _But one last glance at the clock showed I didn't have the time to dwell, and I guess, in some sense, I was glad of that. I didn't want to think about it anymore.

**Time to go...**

:::::::

_Time for the beginning of the end…_

:::::::

--x-x--

"**Cool outfit! …What is it supposed to be?"**

"Hey guys! Over here!"

"You're looking… beautiful tonight?"

"Ooooh, I love it!"

"I hope this outfit is good enough…"

"What do you think?"

"Very nice. Very gruesome. Very zombie-ish."

"I wish Kyle could have come…"

"Ow! Don't _do _that…"

Such was the snippets of conversations I remember that I heard as I arrived at my destination. I have no idea why, but if I think hard enough, this is what I hear as I was stood off to the side, keeping out of the way of the crowd, and feeling extremely awkward with what I was supposed to do now. I'd followed his directions, but for some strange reason I felt as if I must have left out something or taken a wrong turning somewhere…

My destination was on a busy street on the outskirts of Twyport. One of the kinds of streets where there are houses lining both sides nearly all the way, with the exemption of a few shops and turn offs. Cars and Lorries and buses and other vehicles groaned up and down both sides of the road almost non-existently; there was an awful lot of traffic. Kinda like rush hour – but rush hour had always confused me ever since someone had asked me, quite out of the blue – _why is it called rush hour when nothing moves_? And none of the vehicles _were _moving, horns were bleeping, lights were flaring, engines were revving… but no real movement. There were people filtering in through all the gaps, though, and all of them had the same destination as myself in mind.

All in all, it seemed pretty chaotic.

Everyone was heading in the direction of this particular turn off between two of the houses, it wasn't exactly a road, it looked more like the builders had simply forgotten to build a house there; it was just an empty space with patches of grass and a gravel path leading to the temporary metal gates that had been placed there to stop people from just walking straight in. There were what seemed to be policemen stationed at the gates, in those bright green coats that are supposed to make it easier for a car to see you in the dark, and the crowd was making for them, giving them something, and then squeezing through the gaps in the gates and emerging beyond.

Beyond was darkness at first. But it looked like there was a path to follow, the dressed up people were sticking to _something _as they sauntered along, and in the distance there were lights and music and movement. Or more specifically; Bright lights, loud music, and lots and _lots_ of movement.

Just looking at it all made me feel queasy, as I stood with my back pressed against the wall of the house on the left, the people walking barely within centimetres of where I stood. I felt claustrophobic, and was constantly having to wipe sweat from my brow from the heat of all those bodies packed so closely together.

Claustrophobia was a fear of mine, as well as storms, I couldn't stand it. And I'd only been there for five minutes, but already I was wishing I was anywhere but where I was. Panic was threatening to overwhelm me, bile was threatening to rise up my throat, my limbs were shaking, threatening to collapse, my body was threatening to burn up with the sheer temperature of the atmosphere. I closed my eyes, but behind them lights flashed, bodies towered, and I heard a voice I knew scream out, '_Mummy_!" for all she was worth… and for a moment I thought I was going to faint…

But then I felt something else. Something cold and smooth was touching me, I could feel it against my bare skin, but I was too weak to protest - my eyes closed and my knees merely buckled with the sheer relief of the coolness of it. Something around my back and something else knocking my feet from under me, saving me from my fall, and I felt helpless as I was unmistakably picked up by someone, and as much as I wanted to see who it was, I couldn't make my eyes open for the life of me.

Whoever it was, they were surprisingly gentle as they carried me away. The skin on their arms was cool, definitely below the average body temperature, which went in a rather pleasing contrast to the hotness of the warmed up metal of the clasps on my bag, the metal having been heated up by the warmth radiating from the crowd, it was strangely pleasant. I could feel the air cooling, and knew we must be moving away from the crowd and, consequently, the heat. And this person was male, I noticed, their chest was flat and felt wet as my head was pressed against it – I could hear the fluttering of a heart beat, and noted how it was shockingly fast.

My saviour walked quickly, as if he had somewhere important to get to. But the walk was smooth, simple, yet calmingly bouncy, resolute, without concern and without vanity… and then I knew who it was.

I smiled to myself softly, and the greater part of me hoped he saw my smile.

The noise of the crowd was fading away, becoming just a distant babble of unintelligible and Babel voices. The music was getting louder, the senseless graveyard tunes of a Halloween fairground, yet strangely enough I got the feeling we were moving away from as well as towards it. Then, above the music, which was curiously quieting again, I could hear the rustle of leaves and snapping of twigs, the flutter of wings and then a sudden _ka-ching!_ of something on the fairground, which sounded incredibly out of place amidst all the natural noises. And the air was cooling down now rather rapidly, especially cold on my baking skin, when a breeze whispered by it even made me shiver slightly. His footsteps faltered a little when I did the latter, I felt him give me a timid and gentle squeeze.

"Kairi?"

I couldn't respond, my mouth wouldn't cooperate, and my tongue wouldn't shape itself around the words I wished to say. So I reached for his forearm, intending to squeeze it to let him know I could hear him, but my hand found his shoulder. So as an alternative I grasped that instead. I felt as well as heard him laugh quietly to himself.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting in that," He said, softly, "Are you… okay?"

He sounded unsure as to whether it was the right question to ask, considering it was slightly obvious. My lack of response seemed to tell him that the thought was mutual, and he sighed. Coming to a stop, he continued;

"Would you like to walk? If yes, then squeeze my shoulder."

I didn't squeeze his shoulder.

"Okay," He murmured, beginning to walk again. His voice didn't sound sad about my decision, nor was it cheerful. It was simply patient and compliant, gentle as if he feared that if he spoke too harshly I would break or something, calm as if he had anticipated that I wouldn't want to walk. And I appreciated his easy acceptance. The silence that followed was peaceful enough. I liked that too. My hand still lingered on his shoulder, and I left it there, for some reason the solidness of it, bone instead of muscle, was somewhat reassuring and comforting.

I listened to his heart rate decelerating.

I listened to his breathing.

I listened to his footsteps.

I listened to the soundtrack of the surrounding forest. For I knew now that was where we was, I'd know that kind of music anywhere.

And then I listened to the returning soundtrack of the fairground. It was gradual, the voices, the music, the _ka-ching!_ing, the footsteps…

My heart plummeted, and because of my sudden despair I finally found a voice.

I said, in a voice so quiet I barely heard myself, "Are we going there?"

It seemed easy for The Boy to both hear me (considering the silent-ness of our surroundings) and know where I referred to when I said 'there', and the misery in my voice sounded pretty clear to even me, so I knew he must have picked up on it too. He did, because when he replied his musical voice was tainted with reassurance as he spoke the simple word; "Nope."

"Oh." I paused, thinking. "Where to, then?" I eventually finished, after I wasn't able to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why we were approaching it then, nor why he would have wanted to meet up there in the first place…

Somehow, I knew he smiled, "I asked you to 'come and have a look at the other children's costumes with me' remember?"

I remembered…

"_What are you doing for Halloween tomorrow?" _

"_I don't really know, I guess I'll just go for a walk around town and have a look at the different costumes like I normally do…"_

"_You don't trick-or-treat? Me neither…"_

"_So then why don't you come and have a look at the other children's costumes with me? It would be nice to have some company for a change…"_

The last part of the memory saddened me again, the 'nice to have some company for a change' bit… It made me wonder, and feel remorseful for him. When I next spoke I disguised the ruefulness in my voice with sarcasm for no particular reason, or it could be that I had a pretty smart answer for his question, so I opted to use it to help lighten myself up so the unhappiness didn't show through.

I forced a smile, my eyelids fluttered open halfway to reveal my viewing orbs. "Vaguely," I said to him.

He laughed a laugh that made my heart stutter. "I changed my mind about the walk when I heard about this place," He told me happily, "After I dropped Bluebell off at Cid's shop, I came and had a search for a good spot where we could sit away from the crowd – you don't like crowds much, do you?"

I sighed when I could breathe again. "Was I _that_ obvious?"

There was amusement in his voice when he replied, "Quite."

"Darn it," I muttered. And then I opened my eyes fully, blinking rapidly as my pupils adjusted to the sudden flare of lights. Once it was bearable and not quite so blinding, I turned my head to find the source of it. He felt me moving, and his grip slackened to make it easier for me to look around without hurting my neck.

I've despised anything like fairs ever since I was little. I was eight, maybe, or seven or six… perhaps nine. But I was young and when I lost my grasp on my mummy's hand back then as someone wedged in between us, my heart had jolted with the fear of being on my own in such a crowd. It had taken me many minutes, many tears, and many calls to find my family again, and although it hadn't really been that long, I'd been completely shaken by it.

I've feared crowds of any kind ever since, even if I was alone in it to start with, if I hadn't gone there with anyone I knew. The same overwhelming panic would well up within me, the same claustrophobia, the same desperation, the same overpowering heat… everyone else would seem to be towering over me again, the lights flashing, and the screaming… _mummy_… it would all come back. It's always been too much for me to handle.

But despite my hatred for fairs and crowds and noise and such bright lights, I couldn't help but marvel at the scene that met my eyes. It was almost beautiful, in a kind of eerie way. Everything was accustomed to fit the theme of Halloween, and the colours were in various tones of sickly oranges, sinister purples, foreboding blacks, acid greens and the darkest of blood reds. The people that milled about the colours were interesting with their unique costumes, and on this side the music had more sense to it, it had vocals; they were real songs.

_Sally's song_, sung by Amy Lee in the new Nightmare Revisited CD, released in September, last month,floated through the air with its respective music, and I realised I was almost smiling as I listened to it.

-- _to stand by him,  
__Can't shake this feeling that I have.  
__The worst is just around the bend.  
__And does he notice my feelings for him?  
__And will he see how much he means to me?  
__I think it's not to be…_

_What will become of my dear friend?  
__Where will his actions lead us then?  
__Although I'd like to join the crowd,  
__In their enthusiastic cloud,  
Try as I may, it doesn't last…_

_And will we ever end up together?  
__Oh…_

As the instrumental took over, I suddenly became conscious of the fact that The Boy was now descending into some kind of ditch, he slipped slightly on the mud slickened with the rain of last night, and I instinctively shrank into his arms whilst gripping his shoulder with the hand that was already on it, pressing my face into his chest. The sudden dread that he was going to fall with me in his arms momentarily overcame any kind of embarrassment at the reaction I performed, but as the fear passed, I felt my cheeks heat up, although I made no move to change my position. If he went down, I didn't want to watch it, after all.

And then he chuckled, "I'm not going to fall, Kairi."

I gave no reply, even as my blush intensified; almost stubborn, because I knew that if I spoke my voice would shake. So I was silent, but I didn't have to be for long, because then the lyrics were proceeding, the instrumental had finished.

_And will we ever end up together?  
__No, I think not, it's never to become,  
__For I am not the one…_

I sighed as the last chimes of the song blended into the next tune, one that was unknown to me. My eyes closed, but I was aware of the silly smile on my face, _Sally's Song _by Amy Lee was strangely relaxing and mesmerizing to me. I don't know why, for it's the kind of song that's supposed to creep you out, to make your spine shiver… as was the mood of Halloween. But it didn't. It may be weird, or it may be perfectly reasonable, I wouldn't know. But that was how it was, that was how the song made me feel. And I was okay with it, being soothed was better than being weirded out, right?

Depends on what you think, I guess. But personally, I'd say it was.

"She did a pretty good job with that song, huh?"

My eyes reopened at the sound of his voice, and I found myself tilting my head back as I tried to catch a glimpse of him, and I get the feeling I was prematurely successful, for he'd cocked his head to the opposite side, and it was easy to see his crooked smile. The light reflected in his eyes, making them sparkle almost as brilliantly as the lights themselves, and it glowed softly on his slightly tanned skin. I found myself staring, but I wasn't ashamed, in fact, the simple sight of him was soothing in a way that music could never be.

He stared right back at me, his face calm and serene, his smile faltering slightly, but his cobalt eyes shone with such a savage sweet clarity that I was rendered wordless.

And then he was smiling again, soft and gentle, a different smile, and just like that the moment was past.

As he looked away, his eyes returning to observing the fair, my orbs remained motionless. They were fixed on him.

Back then, what I felt, it was indescribable. But I knew above everything that my mind was tranquil, pacified to the point where I was almost drowsy. Something about him… it made me feel safe and secure, something about his eyes told me… I don't know. I just don't know.

It _was _indescribable.

And I knew why I was so excited to see him. I _did _want to know him, to understand him; I _did _want to ask him about himself. I wanted to know about him, I wanted to know his name, his age, where he'd come from, about his family, what he liked, what he disliked. I wanted to know his favourite colour, why he and Them hated each other so much, his favourite food, I… I wanted to _know. _

No more wondering.

I wanted to _know_.

But suddenly it all seemed so trivial and unimportant.

I was tired, I realised. I'd had a long day, so many things had happened, so many things had been said, I'd learnt so much… in both mind and body, I became aware just how exhausted I actually was. My limbs were suddenly heavy, my brain became sluggish, at that moment even to think would have been asking too much of me.

With the thought that I was finally in safe hands, quite literally, the next thing I knew I'd closed my eyes and allowed my mind to slip into the world of imagination. Past realism, past that curious state of in between… right on to the other side.

**And that was the most peaceful one out of them all.**

--x-x--

:::::::

**Sleep is a strange thing. You don't know precisely _when _you succumb to it, although when you write about it like I just did, it makes it sound as if I _did _know when my** **mind** slipped. I didn't, though. But closing my eyes, listening to the music, with the feel of his arms around me… it was the last thing I remembered. I remember it so clearly, so vividly, that it's almost as if it happened yesterday.

But, even back then, after only knowing him for three days, I could already sense some kind of connection between us. I don't know what it was, precisely, nor could I understand it. But there was _something _there, something different, something… unique. Sometimes, it seems, it's good to be different.

And back then it was. The distinctiveness of it was what intrigued me so much, what made him so interesting to me, what made me feel so protected when I was with him. And when I slept back then, somehow I knew even in unconsciousness that he was close, and I took comfort from that thought. Comfort is a warm and pleasant feeling, and I surrounded myself with it, allowing it to rock me in my slumber, to help me to let go and not hold on to my worries… to help me forget the bad things and remember the good.

Sleep is a strange thing, alright. Sleep is like a possessor; it takes control of you and bends you to its will. It can make you writhe, it can make you scream… and it can simply make you smile. It can make you dream, or it can make you experience a nightmare. It can make you look forward to it, and it can make you dread it too. It can be kind, or it can be cruel, but really it just depends.

Sleep doesn't balance you on a knife edge; it has no shades of gray. It is purely black or white, simple as. Good or bad, bad or good… no okay, no in between…

Sleep is a really strange phenomenon; there is no doubt about it, for you also never know when it's going to release you. You don't know when the dream or nightmare will fade away and your consciousness will seep through, or when your consciousness will seep into your imagination. You don't remember it occurring, you just know it does. It has to, because otherwise, how do you stop dreaming?

If I could, I'd never stop a peaceful dream, I'd never wake up to the confusing reality my life has become.

If I could.

But things don't work like that, do they?

:::::::

I don't exactly know what it is about this particular waking up process that made it stick with me the most. Perhaps it's because of him, but I'm not so sure. Because of him, in more than one way… but like I said, I'm clueless. I can just remember it all, remember everything, so clearly it's really rather scary.

My consciousness back then returned to me rather slowly, as if it too was reluctant to awake. Like the last sense to go, my sense of hearing was the first to come through, a strange and curious mixture of blurred and hazy voices and laughter and crying and tuneless music. I listened with wonder at how distorted and disconnected it all sounded. But then, above all that, a noise in particular overruled everything else.

_Ba-dump… ba-dump… ba-dump…_

It was rhythmatic and steady, unlike everything else that I heard, and I suppose that's why I listened to it more intently than the rest.

_Ba-dump… ba-dump… ba-dump…_

It was the most eerie thing. It sounded sole and desolate and alone… but fairly hypnotic, although right then it wasn't lulling, but more of a wake up call.

_Wake-up… wake-up… wake-up…_

And then suddenly my sense of smell and touch returned. I could smell the fumes of the fairground rides, the scent of hotdogs and burgers and sweet perfumes, the odour of sweat and brand new clothes, of smoke and mud and vegetation and… him… And it was a rather pleasant smell, like… I don't know. I can't describe what it was like. But I know I liked it, liked it enough to want to smell it again in fact. Like… something. Something nice and almost calming… and… there was the fragrance of…

Then I felt the breath of wind curl against my bare flesh.

My body reacted naturally, it shivered.

The rest of my sense of touch abruptly sent various messages to my brain, like the shiver was the first spark of the fire; something warm and rough over my shoulders and against my right arm, something solid and cold against my left forearm, something resting on my right hip and something else rubbing my right forearm… and then that something that was solid and cold moved, pushing against me, lifting me slightly, and then moved back, only to move again… and back… and again…

My right eye twitched.

_Eh…?_

And then something other than the wind was breathing, so silently I almost missed it, but once I caught it, I concentrated on it. _Breathe_… and back. _Breathe_… and again…

_Oh, _I thought, _it's a person._

I froze.

The hand that was rubbing my right forearm stopped as I gasped and my eyes snapped open, my body trying to jerk away, but whoever it was pulled me back against them. I tried to resist, struggling against them, trying to get away, the panic, alarm and terror beginning to settle in…

"Woah, woah, _woah, _Kairi! Cut it out, it's me!"

At the sound of that voice, I was so stunned that I ceased movement entirely, and fell back against the person heavily as they were caught off guard from my sudden lack of resistance. Their grip immediately loosened when they noticed I was no longer trying to break away, and I heard them sigh, but with what, I didn't know. My violet eyes were wide and my mouth was open, shaping itself around a surprised 'oh', and for a split second I remained that way; shocked, but then the realisation came through and I didn't know whether to laugh of cry with the relief that accompanied it. So instead I did neither and simple croaked one word; "Mister…"

He laughed softly, and then patted the top of my head with the hand that had been on my waist.

"Silly Kairi," He chuckled, "Who did you think it was?" He paused, thinking, "Actually, don't answer that… uh… did you have a nice kip?"

"Uh…?" I blinked, and then shook my head to try and clear it.

"You didn't?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah… I did," I sighed, before lifting a fist and attempting to rub the sticky sleep from my eyes.

"Still tired, I see," He murmured softly.

I yawned, and listened to his responding laugh with a glowing heart.

"You've had a long day."

I looked at him, his eyes were laughing. "How did you know?" I enquired, quirking an eyebrow. He blinked.

"I… didn't," He returned the cocked eyebrow, "I was guessing."

"Oh."

He gazed at me steadily, trying to understand, I suppose. And I returned it, feeling quite self-conscious with how he was surveying me… no, not self-conscious… I felt _exposed_. As if he was looking right down into my soul, as if he was seeing everything, including the things I didn't want him to see, to know… I forced myself to look away, and even though when I did I didn't feel bare anymore, I could still feel him looking at me, and I have to admit, it was slightly disturbing and uncomfortable. Which was a first, but there's a first for everything, isn't there?

"So… what happened?" He asked me, eventually. I glanced back at him, but he seemed more concerned about me than anything else now, so I relaxed a little. Although I was still wary.

"Well…" I sighed, looking away, and then looking back at him, "You see… Not long after you left, I decided I'd go to the beach, because I was barefoot, and I didn't want to go back home, you know? But as I was walking down the road I came across Sil – across Riku and… Axel…"

And it was like that I began to tell him about my day. It all seemed so long ago as I explained it to him, told him the things he needed to know, or would _want _to know. I told him about outrunning Them, about the little girl, about Yuffie and how she said that Olette was resentful towards me for sticking up for him and how she wouldn't explain her words, about how Olette had called him 'Sky' and Yuffie had told me to stay away from him. And then about Them threatening Olette into 'handing me over', about Axel 'wanting' me, about how Namine and her friend had discussed how They would be waiting for him in Fillister Alley… and when he asked how I knew about this, I explained how I'd snuck into her room but had been too late to leave undiscovered so had hidden instead… I didn't mention the pills, however. And when he enquired why I had snuck into her room, with clear amusement and possibly a hint of pride, I just told him the straight truth – that I wanted to understand what changed my sister.

And apart from those two questions, he remained silent through my entire explanation. Just listening, silently trying to understand… but no words to interrupt me. I was grateful for that. I didn't like talking about half of the things I did, and if he'd cut in I might have faltered and not been able to restart. Like when you run, say… when you run for awhile. And if you stop, then you can't easily make yourself get going again. I remember the incident with Paula Radcliffe in this Marathon some years ago… I can remember quite clearly seeing her slow and then stop completely on the TV screen, her trying to start running again… but not being able to… the look on her face, to me, seemed like pure agony. Yeah, I thought, running does that to you.

I bet she was tasting metal too.

"Changed her?" He said, his third question, which instead of interrupting my voice interrupted my thoughts.

By this time we were both sat cross legged on a mat he'd apparently set out before we'd arrived there. He had his arms crossed, resting on his knees, and he was leaning towards me with his head tilted to the side with the recent curiosity his latest question flaunted. I had a blanket around my shoulders that had appeared out of a bag he'd brought there too, it was old, ragged and worn out. But it kept my warm, it was soft, and it smelled like him, so I'd gladly accepted it. It was actually the same blanket I'd had around my shoulders as I'd woken up. I was sub-consciously nursing a still steaming mug of hot chocolate; whilst his was off to the side, hardly touched.

It seemed he'd thought about everything, but how he knew I liked hot chocolate was anyone's guess. I hadn't dwelled on it; I was too busy talking to dwell on it. And right then my eyes were downcast, staring into the contents of my mug, and sarcastically wishing things could be just a little bit more complicated…

"Yeah," I sighed again, finally looking back up at him with a strained smile, which was probably more like a grimace, "She wasn't always like she is now… Sir, she just… one day she was her usual self; the next day she was giving me the cold shoulder. It's been like that ever since, picking fights with me… getting me into trouble… bossing me around… the works."

As I spoke, my eyes drifted. And when I glanced back at him after telling him the latter, his eyes were sad when I met them.

"Kairi…"

I smiled at him again, forcing myself to be cheerful. "Eh… you get used to it, I suppose," I took a sip of my drink, it scorched against my throat and burned my tongue, but I didn't let him know this, he waited for me to finish, and opened his mouth to speak again as I was wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. But somebody off in the distant fairground suddenly screamed, and we both looked around at the noise. It was nothing, though, just a too drunk and overly enthusiastic teenage girl on a ride, shrieking like a banshee. We both returned our attention to each other.

"Maybe so," He said to me, almost carefully, "You might be used to it, but that doesn't mean it becomes any less painful, does it?"

I looked down again as I swallowed hard, and winced at the pressure on the burned muscles of my gullet.

"No," I whispered softly, tracing the rim of my mug with my finger lightly, "I guess it doesn't."

"She still hurts you."

The emotion in his voice made me take another glance at his features, and the sadness on them, the sadness for me, made me look away. I'd never liked sympathy; I'd always been like that. I'd prefer to suffer in silence then have the sympathetic pats and glances, the fussing women and the helpless men… no. I'd rather let the pain die inside myself instead of share it.

But I _was _sharing it, I told myself. I _was _telling him this, wasn't I?

It was then I realised with shock that I didn't actually _mind _telling him, either. The uneasiness, the painfulness, the timid glances, the uncomfortable sighs… I was forcing them all out of pure… what's it called… routine-ness? Something… I don't know. But it's what I normally did, so I did it. But I found that if I didn't concentrate on all of them, if I just relaxed and thought to myself – _you can tell him, Kairi, it's okay to tell him… _they all but disappeared. I blinked at the brown liquid in my mug with fleeting surprise, but just as I was about to laugh at myself and look back at him, he was there. But… it wasn't in any way I would have thought he would be.

He'd leant forwards and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me towards him. I stopped breathing when I felt him bury his face into the crook of my neck, his sudden exhalation danced across what there was of my bare skin, and I could feel it moistening the latter. His grip was surprisingly tight for a first hug, as if he was unaware of any awkwardness such a situation could bring. But then again, he _was _naïve, as innocent as a child when it came to this kind of thing; when it came to contact. I'd been pressed against him; the rigidity of his embrace had my shoulders bunched up so that my left one rested against the side of his head. My heart was spluttering frantically, my breathing was suddenly coming out all ragged, and I could have sworn I was spilling my drink my hands were shaking so much; the hot liquid burned my fingers.

It's the surprise, I told myself firmly, it's the suddenness of his actions… yeah, that's it. I was caught off guard, that's all, I wasn't expecting it…

But just like I knew Namine would have known I was lying with my excuses, I knew I was lying to myself when I said I was merely startled.

For a while neither of us said anything. The wind howled eerily, the crescent moon glared balefully, the leaves on the trees rustled noisily, forest life flickered all around us never endingly, and I wondered to myself… what does it all _mean_? This is how it must have been a thousand years ago, I thought. No people, no gardens, no stereotypes, no games, no hate, no twisted hearts… just this, the seasons and the skies and the rain and the wind and the tides… things without grown spirit. Nothing to remember or want. Light. Darkness. A heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

I watched his hair as it danced with the wind. As childish as every other part of him, it was so untidy it was almost stubborn. And we were still for so long that I was beginning to calm down just a little… well, I wasn't shaking anymore, anyway… but my heart all but accelerated to the point where it thrummed like a hummingbirds wings, and my breathing ceased entirely, when he next moved.

He lifted his head slowly and slightly, tilted it, and rested his cheek against the side of my head gently, the soft texture of the skin on his face brushing against my ear. His arms slackened their hold on me, and then I felt something rubbing gentle against my back, barely skimming the cloth that clung to it. The tenderness was so intense that all my thoughts and ponderings and feelings… they just scattered, scuttling away with their tails between their legs. And closing my eyes seemed like the most natural thing to do.

"Es ist okay zu weinen, du bescheid," He murmured in a voice just as tender as his actions, he spoke this new language without any trace of an accent – you could mistaken that it was his nationality, which for all I knew then I probably could have been. And although I know I should have wondered where the sudden German came from, I didn't, I knew enough to know what he said that it hardly mattered.

_It's okay to cry, you know…_

I might not be an emotional person. I might be able to read a story or a book or an article, or watch a film, and be able to remain completely dry eyed. But right then, you could say, I saw my own blood. I was down, switched on those damn waterworks… fetch the tissues please…

You don't need to cry, I tried to reason with myself, you don't let her get to you anymore, do you? You've learnt to cope with it, you can deal with it, you're not emotional, you can handle it… she hasn't done anything _that _bad recently, has she? She's hardly done _anything_, god, she's hardly even _touched _you, woman…

But more things have occurred other than Namine… bad things. Sticks and stones… no, whoever came up with that must have mentally confused. Words _do _hurt… words like… like…

_I don't care_…

It was then that I began to cry. Onhis shoulder, I sobbed my heart out as I wished They didn't exist and everybody would stop hating him so much.

But this time I **did** _know_.

**Know that that was never ever going to happen. **

* * *

**End of Chapter Six.**

dundundun...  
LOL. Who's watched Boy Meets World? ;D 'tis ledgeeee.  
I think i deffo will carry on with this outing in the next chapter. I am _not __satisfied with what I have done! And I still can't figure out __what __exactly it IS…  
blah._

_…_**REVIEW REPLIES!  
**(beware.)

**_FrozenFire42_**:Agreed; lie ins are just total win. But I'm not so sure about the calming thing… sometimes those scenes can be angsty and the likes. And I get angry with myself if I don't use any spare time trying to THINK of what could happen and such, and sometimes I like to go back to a certain scene and redo it, just because I like the scene. I have a computer in both my houses – but I have a laptop too! HA! Go me. :P you're so jealous. And bud, that's not exactly my idea of a long review, LMAO! XD! I dare you to make it longer ;). Trust me, that's about as nice as my dares get. Uh… yeah! Yeah, you do that! You go and rule the world, and good luck with that? 'Fraid I don't think I really want to join… world domination just seems a complete waste of time to me. Costs too much and shizz… I don't really like blondes either. I know it's not nice, but with blondes all I can think is 'dumb blondes' even though I know that can't be entirely true. Black and brunet is good, because black and brunet is normally the colour emo styled hair is. :) I don't know Ouran, but I've watched Vampire Knight, and whilst my sister goes drooly over… um… Yuuki's brother (see, he seems so unimportant I don't remember the name) I prefer Zero! SEXY BEAST! o: and I am very happy that you don't mind long stories, that sets my mind more at ease. Thankies! And toodles? XD! Oh, and if you haven't already, I recommend you watch the KH version of Boy Meets World – and then there was Shawn by pwilliard. (after watching the real thing, of course, otherwise it doesn't make much sense.) I laughed myself more silly than I originally was! And that's an achievement, I tell you…

**_chasingfireflies_**: I feel your pain, really, we can suck at sports together whilst giving the finger to those who don't. Well, okay, you can bag… lol! Bag? LMAO! You can bag Kairi's dad! XD! No no no… what I meant to say was, you can bagsy beating the shizz out of K.D. 'cause then afterwards we'll all be happier anyway. Don't tell me… you have no idea what's going to happen next in your story? Well… crap, that's just great - you disappoint me! o: or is this just lazy-ness? ;P and yes, you DO know where it's gonna come from… the blankness of your brain. Kinda like from where Aros and Saor are supposed to be in Sora's noggin? Chyeah. And no, before you start getting weird ideas about me I don't read ALL your reviews. I just generally skim down for the biggest review REPLY and take a look to see what's been said because I am so nosy like that. And that is normally your r.r., so then I got interested and followed them in all the chapters… which is slightly disturbing like but yeah… I don't really go through fandoms. I stick to Sokai, I think I've got some weird obsession over them, it scares even me at how fudging LOYAL I am. And check this: YAOI: Your Are Obviously Idiots – or something. I am very anti-yaoi. I don't entirely agree with the ear piercings burning thing, I think, though I guess it really depends where you're getting it pierced so… but apparently stretching your ears hurts more, so writers block can have some of those instead. I'm pretty insomniac too, I suppose, but that's mainly due to me making my brain work hard to visualise my scenes and all so I guess it's okay, 'sept for in the mornings… they're not so great. But that is so like me! The pretending and envisioning… and YOU think you have weird dreams? I've dreamt about a shark chasing me on LAND, yeah, somehow it was walking on something, but my dream self was too busy with its head to notice the feet. I've dreamt of not being able to fit in my granddads car… and then strangely enough some guy on a white horse comes sweeping in and says in all his fancy English that he'd give me a ride, but he ends up taking me to some castle and calls me 'bwiller' or something. I woke up then, and had a bit of a 'what the freak' moment. CHEESE GALORE. I've had more, but I think I'll spare you. Kairi's character in this is based off a lot on mine, and as you can see in this chapter it says about how she CAN'T RUN. Well, long distance, anyway, it just about kills me. But I'm fast, so I guess I'm more of a sprinter… Hm… and lol, how'd the dentist go? XD! I have no life either, I had no school this week and have done just about bugger all. I switch from my mums to my dads, that's about the only times I've been out. And my cousin's boyfriend was… 17, and my mum was 35 or +… I think he had a right to be scared. Which part was an oxymoron? The 'Olette' and 'a face full of peafy's old guitar' one? I wouldn't actually call that much of an oxymoron after this chappie, though… and LASTLY, yes, please try and update, or I may have to go as far as to threaten you with no more of MY updates until you do… muahahaha.

_**Sora195**_: I think I've already sent you an email… but I'm not exactly sure. It's been awhile, and I forget things. I guess all I can really say is thank you for the compliments and… um… I don't really think it was any faster than usual, do you? Hell no. :/

Please could you tell me whether you prefer me to reply in this way, or via email?  
Personally, I think I preferred email, but I'll leave it up to you.  
…see you when I do? XD!

**A **s**_toryteller_ is I, now it ends we say **g**_oodbye._**

**onlylotte.**


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